Of Dogs and Men
by greggsmk
Summary: The Warden Commander of Ferelden, Duncan, is in need of recruits given the blight ravaging the land. Traveling south, he does his best to gather as many promising hopefuls as he can, and Thedas is forever altered. A rationally expanded look at the normal Dragon Age Novelization-just where will this strange plot lead us? To an alternate universe, perhaps? Will be M!Cousland/Morrigan
1. Chapter 1: Highever

Disclaimer: Dragon Age: Origins and anything associated with it are the property of Bioware and EA. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: Okay, so this came about as an attempt to put a rational spin on a Dragon Age novelization and alternate universe, while expanding the party to include (at the very least) the six origins and various other people in the world. For brevity's sake I'll be using the default names for the origins (feel free to replace the names with your own if you can't stand the defaults) and the primary viewpoint character will be Aedan Cousland, though as I add more characters, I'll be branching out. I intend to avoid major OC use, but if I'm forced to they'll simply be supporting cast, not main party. It's also unbeta-ed, so I apologize for the surely numerous tense and comma errors, but without further ado, please enjoy!

EDIT: After writing the next chapter and looking back, I realized this was simply too long for dealing with appropriate scene division, so I've split this chapter into two and made a few very minor changes.

* * *

Of Dogs and Men

Chapter 1: Highever

* * *

On the road approaching Castle Highever, a trio of horsemen made for the castle at a trot. The lead horseman was a man of average height and broad shoulders; at twenty-four, Aedan Cousland nevertheless had the air of nobility about him, carrying himself with purpose and warm confidence. His brown hair, done up in the king's current fashion, fell behind him as the wind blew across his face. His body was adorned with tattoos, having come to love the art during his squirehood in the Free Marches, much to his parent's dismay upon his return. Though he had numerous smaller depictions, three most prominent were the paired scrollwork that slashed diagonally across his face, highlighting his cheekbones, the silver sword entwined with the Cousland laurels down his right forearm, and the short list of black names that had begun to wind its way down his left arm.

Clad in his hunting leathers, Aedan was simply pleased the hunt itself has gone so well. Leaving earlier, Victor and Bailey, two of the castle's guards who often hunted with him, had joined up, ostensibly for his protection. They'd brought down a pair of bucks for the dinner tonight; as it would be the last chance the teryn and his guests would likely have to get a full, hot meal for a time. It was odd then, he noted as they rode through the surrounding city and drew closer to the castle, that there were fewer soldiers than he expected. He knew the king had called all the lords to send troops south to Ostagar, and Arl Howe's men were to rendezvous here before the teryn's entire host would journey south under his brother, Fergus' command.

Looking around, he noted the lack of bear and banner emblems, Arl Howe's standard. Aedan was glad he'd be back before the arl arrived, anticipating that his father would want him there for the initial greeting. Knowing that Arl Howe was going to be present at the night's meal and hearing tale of a pair of visiting Grey Wardens sent a jolt of excitement rushing through his veins. As he rode under the castle's walls and into the main courtyard, the guards keeping watch called out.

They'd apparently been keeping an eye out specifically for him, and relayed that his father wished to speak with him immediately in the Great Hall. Shouting his thanks and dismounting, he led the horse over to the stable master and entrusted its care to her.

Spotting a passing elf with the Cousland crest embroidered on their tunic, Aedan asked if he could see the bucks strapped to the horses up to Nan in the kitchens. After the elf grabbed a few companions and poles, the servants unslung, rebound, and began carrying the deer between them. Meanwhile Aedan, in sweaty hunting leathers, with bow strapped to his back and his sword and dagger at his waist, prepared to meet one of the most powerful men in all of Ferelden and one of his oldest allies. Wonderful.

The sound of his father's voice drifted out and into the hall, apparently in conversation with the Arl of Amaranthine, Rendon Howe. Bugger, he'd hoped to have returned before the arl had arrived. The doors to the Great Hall opened with nary a sound, and Aedan strode confidently forward, hoping his father wouldn't be too angry he hadn't been here to properly greet the arl.

Indeed, his father stood arms clasped behind his back in front of the hall's bonfire. That wasn't a good sign, his father was nervous about something. "No, no. The appearance of the darkspawn in the south has us all scrambling. I only received the orders to march recently myself. It seems you and I will ride into battle once more, my friend."

"True, though back then we fought Orlesians, not…monsters."

"At least the smell will be the same," finally Aedan saw his father's head snap up to meet his gaze and he held his fist over his heart, a salute to the Teryn his father was right now. "Ah, Pup! I haven't seen you all morning, you remember Arl Howe, of course."

"I see he's grown into a fine young man. Pleased to see you again, lad."

Aedan smiled, nodding his head in deference, "And you Arl Howe. Father, I figured our guests deserved a good Highever meal tonight, so I was out hunting this morning. Nan is being sent the bucks as we speak."

The teryn's eyes lit up, and both he and Arl Howe broke into smiles. It was the first he'd seen his father smiling in several days, "Ha! Fair enough Pup, a hot meal before a hard road is always a good sign."

"Indeed, I look even more forward to tonight then. Now, lad, my daughter Delilah has asked after you. Perhaps I should bring her next time?"

Aedan was able to discreetly catch his father's gaze for a moment, and the disapproval there was all the confirmation he needed. The Howe family was a close enough ally, and a political marriage would do nothing to favor or advance the Couslands. Unthinkingly, he relaxed a bit, Delilah was a sweet girl, but he had absolutely no desire to broker a relationship with her. "From what I've heard Delilah is a wonderful young lady, but I've no interest in an arranged marriage."

Imperceptibly nodding, Aedan's father stepped in to carry the conversation, "You see what I contend with Rendon? You can't tell my fierce boy anything these days, Maker bless his heart."

Arl Howe hid his reaction well, apart from a rueful chuckle and agreeing nod, "A temperament to match his fighting skill! Well done, your lordship."

"At any rate, Pup, I summoned you here for a reason. While your brother and I are both away, I'm leaving you in charge of the castle."

Aedan rocked back on his heels and sighed to himself. He'd expected it, but is still didn't make it any easier to bear. "I take it when I asked several days ago to ride with the men to Ostagar, this is what you had in mind?" A nod from his father. Damnation. He and Fergus had both proven themselves as able leaders of men when they were squired away, both in peace and in war. Fergus, however, simply had the natural acumen and charisma needed for a political leader, whilst Aedan had found his calling directing combat and wartime strategy.

His father's appointment made some amount of sense; while both brothers were living under their father's rule, they could learn and form alliances of their own in preparation for ruling. When Fergus took over, he would benefit from having led many of the men serving him directly in combat, and should he fall, Aedan would be getting more experience in running the terynir and working with those who would be of aid. Still, he had to try at least once; Aedan had never faced darkspawn, and was itching to test his mettle. "And you're certain I can't simply ride off with you to face the darkspawn hordes? I promise not to let mother know until we're both out of the castle and beyond the archer's range."

The two lords chucked, both familiar with Teryna Eleanor Cousland, and Aedan's father responded, "I'm certain you'd more than prove yourself, but I'm not willing to deal with your mother once we'd be returning. She'd kill me if I let you go, and like as not kill you for suggesting it in the first place, Pup. She's already twisted into knots about Fergus and me going."

"I understand, father, and I'll keep the terynir safe until your return."

"Now that's what I like to hear. There'll only be a token force present at the castle, and you must keep peace in the region. You know what they say about mice when the cat is away, yes?" his father's eyes caught Aedan's and stilled him with the intensity they bore. There was something going on that had the teryn defensive, but for the life of him, Aedan couldn't tell what it was. "Also, Pup, there's someone I'd like you to meet." Turning, he addressed the guard near the side door, "Would you show Duncan and his recruit in, please?"

Ah, the Grey Wardens. The castle had received word by horseback from the terynir's borders that the Warden Commander of Ferelden and one of his recruits would be detouring to Highever on their path from the Ferelden and Orlesian border to Ostagar. The rumor was that the Commander was recruiting, and given the presence of his companion, it seemed the likely truth.

It was an exciting moment for Aedan, who, for all of Aldous' tales and lectures, had never met a single Grey Warden, let alone the Warden Commander. The man that entered the great hall, then, had Aedan's utmost attention. The Commander was a tall man, and at first glance appeared Rivaini with tanned skin, dark hair and a full beard. He wore leather plate armor over a light robe, and bore the hilts of a sword and dagger over his shoulders. Though he had a warm countenance and bearing, Aedan could see the lines etched in his face from years of combat and command. Some were faint scars that stood out in the firelight, others deep wrinkles no doubt due to the worry and stress of leading.

It was, however, Duncan's companion that required a second look. A curvy dwarven woman in worn leathers, she had a look of wonder about her face, and couldn't stop peering around at the castle itself. With a pair of daggers at her waist and a crossbow strapped to her back, she clearly favored the lighter Rogue tenets of combat. Her face was even more tattooed than Aeden's own, and Aedan couldn't help but remember Aldous lecturing about dwarven culture in Ferelden. There were scant details regarding tattoos, though, something related to the caste system, perhaps? Nevertheless, she was thinner than the few dwarven merchants who had passed through Highever over the years, had her hair pulled apart and braided, and sported a fantastic pair of breasts that strained against her armor.

Duncan reached the trio first and, facing Aedan's father, bowed his head. "It is an honor to be in your hall, Teryn Cousland. I extend my greetings to you and your family, and to you, Arl Howe." The Commander then turned, and gestured to the dwarven woman, who had ceased gazing in wonder and had joined the group, "Allow me to introduce my companion, the Warden Recruit Natia Brosca, of Orzammar."

Arl Howe's smile seemed to freeze, and he sent a look at Aedan's father, "Of course, ser, it's a pleasure. Though your lordship, you never mentioned we'd be joined by members of the Grey Wardens."

That caught Aedan by surprise, and he hoped the shock didn't show on his face. A rider from the western border of the terynir had sent word that the Warden Commander and his party would be passing through Highever land on their way to Ostagar several days ago. Aedan's father had immediately sent word back to reach Duncan and invite him to Highever should he choose to do so, and the rider had returned two days ago with news of Duncan's acceptance.

Arl Howe, on the other hand, was one of the teryn's oldest allies, going all the way back to when they both served together during the war against the Orlesian Empire. The fact that Aedan's father hadn't told the arl spoke of something seriously amiss.

The teryn spoke up then, and Aedan hoped he could get some answers. If he was going to be staying here to watch over the terynir, he needed to know what he was up against. "Duncan arrived recently, unannounced, and as we are all eventually journeying to Ostagar, I offered Highever's shelter for the meanwhile."

"Of course, Bryce, but there are certain protocols to be followed. I am at a disadvantage…"

Before Arl Howe could continue, Aedan's father snapped up the opportunity to interject, "It's true, we rarely have the pleasure of seeing one, let alone two in person. Pup, Brother Aldous taught you of the Grey Wardens, I hope?"

Aedan turned from the Warden Commander, Duncan, to face his father, "Several stories of how the wardens defeated the darkspawn during the last Blight, and far too many lectures on the political ramifications of their reentry into Ferelden after so many years in exile," and here, Aedan couldn't help but throw up a smile and turn to face Duncan, "along with far too few tales of the wondrous griffins they used to ride." The ploy worked, and Duncan chuckled behind his beard.

"Ah yes, griffins. It seems to be the one piece of Grey Warden history that prevails across all of Thedas." His face took on a more serious glint, and his voice fell, "And yes, while the darkspawn were defeated during the last Blight, it wasn't a permanent solution, I fear."

Aedan's father nodded and continued where Duncan had left off, "Without the Grey Warden's warning, half of the nation would have likely been overrun by now. Hence our king's orders for the armies to march for Ostagar, we hope to end this incursion there. Duncan, I understand that you've been looking for recruits. While we are all at your disposal, there are several of the younger guardsmen and men-at-arms in particular I can recommend, along with Ser Gilmore, the son of my Master-at-Arms, Ser Hadrian. Many of them are skilled and eager, and Ser Gilmore's shown excellent ability both in combat and leadership."

"I thank you again, my lord, and if I might be so bold, your son would also surely make an exceptional warden."

Another jolt of adrenaline ran through Aedan's veins, but before he could respond, his father interposed himself between Aedan and Duncan. Apparently, he'd been expecting the question, for when he spoke, his words were calm and tempered, "Honor though that might be, this is one of my sons we're talking about."

Even if he mostly agreed with him, Aedan couldn't resist the opportunity to have a bit of fun with his father and smirking, called out over the teryn's shoulder, "Hmm, I suppose that _would_ be one way of getting into the battle. Warden Commander, you take volunteers?"

His father spun, a horrified look on his face, and the dwarf, Natia spoke up for the first time in a lovely timbre, "Hah! I like you, you ain't so bad, you know, fer a noble." Fortunately for Aedan's continued health, his father's shock dissolved in light of Aedan's smiling face and Natia's commentary. Unfortunately for Aedan, that horror turned to a sardonic frown. One that, looking past, he could see was mirrored on Duncan's face as the Commander gave Natia a look.

"Not funny, Pup."

Arl Howe simply grinned at the teryn, adding his own two bits, "You did just affirm that the wardens are heroes, old friend."

Aedan's father took it all in stride before he appeared to gather himself and face Duncan, "I've not so many children that I would see them all off to the battlefield, Grey Wardens or not. Unless, of course, you intend to invoke the Right of Conscription…?"

Aedan watched as Duncan shrugged and smiled calmly, clearly trying to placate the teryn, "Not to fear, while we are certainly in need of new recruits, I've no intention of forcing the issue. It was simply a comment as to what I've heard of his ability."

Aedan's father nodded to himself, apparently satisfied, and turned to face Aedan himself. "Pup, as Duncan will be here for a few days, please see to any of his requests, and provide him with fresh provisions and horses for the journey south when he leaves."

"Of course, father."

"In the meantime, find Fergus and tell him to lead the troops ahead to Ostagar, I'll be heading out with Rendon's men as soon as they arrive." Aedan paused, there was something going on here and he still had no idea what. He needed to find out more. Perhaps…

"If it's alright, I'd like to speak with Duncan for a bit."

Aedan's father shut that line of thought down before it could begin. "There'll be plenty of time to speak at dinner and afterwards, now be a good lad and do as I've asked."

Duncan, however, had one final point and gesturing to Natia, spoke, "Actually, I would appreciate it if you would accompany Natia for the time being, as we three must discuss strategy for the southern battles. Perhaps she'd be able to answer any questions you may have?" It wasn't an order, but it certainly wasn't a request. Aedan nodded, turning to the stout lady and smiling.

"Of course, my lady?" Gesturing to the side door that led to the causeways throughout the castle, Aedan turned and began walking out of the Hall, Natia falling in behind and to his side.

"No problem, but I sure as stone ain't a lady. You can call me Natia."

After they passed the threshold, Aedan craned his neck around to face the woman beside him, "You know, it'd likely be a lot easier to talk if we walked side by side."

She moved up, and Aeden got a closer look at her. Under the intricate braidwork of her hair, she had a rounded face that was half-fierce, half-sweet, and wholly mischievous. Taking a short knife out of the pouch strapped to her left leg, she began playing with the blade before shrugging and replying, "Sorry, it's an ol' habit. So, you're the teryn's son?"

"His second, yes. Fergus' my older brother by a couple years and a couple inches. Actually, he's who I need to go speak with, mind walking and talking?"

Aedan watched as she shrugged again and began to flip and spin the knife around her fingers,

"Sure. So, Duncan said you've got questions. What'd you wanna-"

"My lord! There you are!" Ser Gilmore, the ever-mannered son of the castle's Master-at-Arms and Aedan's good friend and occasional sparring partner, jogged round the corner. He's just had caught sight of Aedan and Natia, and Aedan just knew that he was now one more step further away from getting some answers and clearly the more important, getting out of his now damp tunic. The knight took a deep breath and composed himself, his chainmail stilling at the effort, "I beg pardon my lady. I've interrupted you both."

"Not a lady, knight. S'everyone gonna do that 'round here?"

"It's alright, Ser Gilmore, what's the matter?"

Turning back to Aedan, his unflinching sense of propriety not even wavering in front of Natia's comments, Ser Gilmore continued, "Of course, my lady. And yes, my lord, your mother told me the teryn had summoned you, so I didn't want to interrupt. Apparently your hound has managed to get into the larder again. Nan is threatening to leave, and your mother would have you resolve the situation quickly."

Sighing, Aeden's shoulders slumped a bit, "Oh Maker, and I just sent her a pair of full grown buck for the dinner tonight. Bollocks. This is going to be fun, isn't it? And Fang isn't listening to her and leaving? He usually does after a bit…"

"You know these mabari hounds. They listen only to their master; everyone else risks having an arm bitten off. Smart breed. Smart enough to know not to talk, my father says. Nan swears he does it just rile her up."

Aedan winced, "Well…she's not entirely wrong there. Fang's a rascal alright."

"At any rate, your mother would have me accompany you until the matter is settled. Shall we?"

Gathering himself, Aedan turned to the curvy dwarf beside him, "Of course, Ser Gilmore. Natia, care to join us? I can promise glory, adventure, and probably ale. Though the library is in the building over there if you'd rather not."

Aedan could hear the grin before he saw it on her, "Library's like a Shaperate, right? Sounds neat, but I've never seen a hound before. Or a buck, fer that matter. Onward te glory and ale!"

The kitchens were only a few buildings away, and the three arrived in short order to Nan's yelling. Afraid of the beast within but not wanting to seem craven, the trio paused before opening the main door. A moment of hesitation ensued, broken only by Nan's shouting. Ser Gilmore, ever the chivalrous knight, nodded to himself and addressed Aedan, "My lord, as your sworn man, I couldn't possibly in good conscience precede you when entering the building."

Aedan narrowed his eyes at his companion before turning his best puppy eyes on Natia and trying to insert a quiver in his speech, "Natia…?"

"I'm just a guest here, milord. Wouldn' be proper, me enterin' the room afore you."

Aedan sighed, and his head fell to his chest. With a mumbled, "Traitors…" he pushed the door to the kitchens open and stepped inside.

"Get that _bloody_ mutt out of _my larder_!"

"But mistress, it won't let us near…"

"If you can't clear that damned mutt out of my larder, I'll skin both you useless elves!"

The pair of elves assigned to the kitchen were cowering before Nan's wrath, and quickly moved the side when Aedan approached her. "Calm down, Nan. Let's avoid any elf-skinning, please."

"_You_! Your bloody mongrel keeps getting into my larder! That beast should be put down!"

Aedan twitched at that. Fang had been a puppy of one of the finest litters born in this age. His father had been Corin, the mabari imprinted to King Cailan himself! "Mongrel! He's a pureblood mabari!"

Aedan could see Natia off to the side, curiously examining the skinned and cleaned deer he and Bailey had brought down earlier, but Ser Gilmore finally joined the fray, "Calm down, good woman. We're here to help."

"Don't you start! He's a blight wolf, is what he is."

The two elves, seeing the worst of the storm pass, did their best to help out, "Calm down mistress, please…"

"I quit! Inform the teryna, I'll go find some nice country estate to cook for in the Bannorn!"

Ser Gilmore was once again to the rescue. Of course, Aedan mused, now all the danger had passed, "Be at ease Nan, well get the dog."

Seeming to sag into herself, Nan quieted down and sighed, "Just get him gone. I've got enough to work on, thanks to you. A fine kill, Aedan, you should be proud," Aedan grinned, but was caught unawares when she continued, "All that's left is to dress and roast them with the herbs and spices that are _in my bloody larder_!"

Striding past and into the larder with Ser Gilmore and Natia beside him, he called over his shoulder, "We're going, we're going!"

Entering the larder, Aedan noted that while the mess wasn't terrible, he'd have to have a serious talk with Fang about this one. Ser Gilmore, it seemed, had picked up on much the same and whispered, "Look at that mess, how'd he even get in here, anyway?"

Fang suddenly brought his nose up from the ground and quickly spotted Aedan. Trotting over and looking incredibly pleased with himself, he began barking excitedly. Crossing one arm under the other, Aedan put his head in his hand and turned to the joyous mabari, "Fang, you know better. It doesn't stop you one bit, but you know better than to do this, especially today…" Fang ceased barking and let out a low whine, but then began barking more intently. "You're trying to tell me something, aren't you?"

Ser Gilmore stepped up beside Aedan and commented, "He does seem particularly intent on- wait, do you hear that?" And Aedan stilled, because he did hear something, a sort of light scratching. That was approximately when the rats began charging out from under the cupboards, barrels, and crates and attacked the wary party. Drawing his sword and dagger even as he stomped on the closest one, he paid attention to the rest of his party's actions. Ser Gilmore had cried out a quick prayer for the Maker's mercy and was stomping around and flicking his blade down to bisect any rat that came near.

Fang was doing what he did best, joyously barking as he tore through the rats as fast as he could get his paws or jaws on them. Natia, however, was the surprise, as he'd only met her half an hour before. Shouting about "evil nugs," she'd gone to work with her crossbow, loosing bolts and reloading faster than almost every soldier he'd seen, and he'd seen many a soldier using the bolt-throwers. It took moments before the wave of rats ended and left the party standing amidst their glorious battlefield.

"Giant rats? It's like the start of every bad adventure tale my grandfather tells. Your hound must have chased them in through their holes."

Aedan looked down at Fang, who was panting happily and wagging his stub of a tail, and then over to Natia, who was moving about recollecting the bolts she'd fired. "Well, I may have been joking before, but now that we've attained glory and adventure, I think we need some ale. And Natia, what in the Maker's name is a nug?" Aedan moved over to the racks near the back of the larder, each laden with casks of ale brought up from the cellars. Seeing one already tapped, he grabbed a few tankards lying around and opened the spigot, filling them.

Even in the relatively dim lamplight, Aedan could see the blush spreading across her face. "It's a 'lil beast we raised back in Orzammar. Looks like a big, pink, hairless version o' the rabbits Duncan's been showin' me how to catch. He said nugs're like bunny-pigs, whatever those are."

Natia took the proffered mug and held it to her lips as Ser Gilmore accepted his and began to explain, "I've seen rats like these, larger than normal, I mean. But that was when I was squired away down south, near the Korcari Wilds."

Aedan closed the spigot, took a deep draught from his mug and choked for a moment in surprise. Swallowing, he spoke to the others, who were now looking warily at their own. "Sorry, wrong cask. It's mead, oak matured by the taste of it. Caught me off guard." Grinning, Ser Gilmore tipped his tankard back and drank it in one fell swoop, placing the mug back on the racks.

"Delicious. My lord, with more of the arl's men arriving soon in need of coordination, I respectfully request leave to hide out here." Aedan and Natia followed suit and drained theirs,

Natia coming up from hers with a smile on her face.

"It's kinda sweet. Surfacer drinks are weird. Good, but weird."

"I'll consider it, Ser Gilmore, but only if I can manage to do so as well." Adventure celebrated,

the two placed the tankards back onto the racks, and all four of them left the larder to confront Nan.

"There he is, as brazen as you please, licking his chops after helping himself to the roast, no doubt!"

"Yes well, he's just a dog being a dog."

"Look at him, he gets into my larder and just makes off like a bloody thief!" Nan settled in a huff. The elven servants, who'd stayed out of the way, now took a look into the larder, taking stock of what they'd have to clean, before recoiling in surprise.

"Mistress! There are rats in the larder! Big ones!"

"Oh! Well, it looks like the dog killed them all."

Nan strode over to the doorway and peered in. Turning a gimlet eye on Fang, she continued, "I bet that bloody mutt led them in there in the first place…" Fang, it seemed, took exception to this, and promptly padded over to Nan, looking up at her with big, round eyes. "Oh, don't start with those; I'm immune to your bloody charms."

Fang's eyes grew even wider, and cocking his head, a low whine escaped his throat as he began to paw at Nan's boot. Aedan was certainly impressed, Fang had been practicing. Nan stood no chance, and walking to a nearby dish, replied, "Oh fine! Take these pork bits and don't you say Nan never did you any favors. Now, I need to get back to the roast. Break's over, you bloody elves! Back to work!"

Ser Gilmore cleared his throat, and Aedan turned to face him, "Well, my lord, now that your hound is back in hand, I'll be off to prepare the castle for more of the arl's men." Natia stepped over and placed a hand on Ser Gilmore's arm before he could leave, and turning her head she addressed Aedan, "You said you need te go see your brother, aye?" At Aedan's nod she continued, "Gotcha. Gilly, you mind showin' a girl her way back to that library?"

"Not at all, my lady" As the pair walked out, Aedan turned to wait for Fang to finish his treat, and couldn't help but grin at the commentary drifting back.

"I ain't a lady, dammit."

"Of course, my lady."

"Ancestors! Your more a lady'n I'll ever be!"

"I'd never question your ancestry, my lady."

"Your just gonna keep doin' that, arent'cha?"

"It seems most probable, my lady."

"Bah! S'like talkin' to the bloody stone!"

Aedan chuckled, and Fang, finished and wanting attention, butted his head into Aedan's palm. Idly scratching, Aedan stood to leave, "Come on, Fang. We're off to see Fergus." A happy bark was his only reply, but Aedan knew what the hound wanted, "And yes, I'm sure Oren will be there to rub your belly. Scratch glutton."

* * *

Walking out of the kitchens with Fang at his heels, he made his way upstairs towards the family's chambers. At the first landing, however, He spotted his mother, along with several of her guests. Strolling over, he braced himself for more political doublespeak. "And my dear Bryce brought this back from Orlais last year. The baron who gave it to him was apparently quite drunk, and mistook Bryce for the king." Catching sight of Aedan, the teryna turned and addressed him, "Ah, here is my younger son. I take it by the presence of that troublesome hound of yours that the situation in the kitchen is resolved?"

Hmm... to mention the giant rats in the larder or not to do so? Normally he'd appreciate the result, but with the guests here, it was probably best to remain on the safe side, "Yes mother, Nan is back to work as we speak."

She nodded to herself and gestured to the guests about her, "Good, you've always had a way with her. You remember Lady Landra, darling, Bann Loren's wife?

Lady Landra turned to face Aedan, and he could see the light blush that adorned her face, "I think we met at last year's spring salon."

Ah, yes. Now he remembered, the good lady had apparently drunk a little too deeply and had spent half the salon trying to get in his breeches. Dodging that had been an…interesting event, "Of course, it's good to see you again, my lady."

"You're too kind, dear boy; didn't I spend half the salon flirting shamelessly with you?"

Aedan saw the young man next to her wince. "Right in front of your family, as well." The boy must be her son, Dairren. Aedan had sparred with him at the last tourney; a solid foundation but with little to no innovation. He might shape up in the years to come.

"You remember my son Dairren? You two sparred in the last tourney, as I remember." A nod in reply, and Dairren caught his attention.

"And you beat me handily, as _I_ recall. It's good to see you again, my lord."

"You're being modest, you fought well, and I've no doubt you've improved."

Lady Landra chimed in once more, gesturing to the elven lass at her side, "And here is my lady-in-waiting, Iona. Do say something dear!"

Iona was a curious mixture of the ethereal grace many elves had, and the blushing propriety many handmaidens bore. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my lord. I have heard many wonderful things about you."

"Don't look now, Eleanor, but I think she has a crush on your young man." Oh boy, this could quickly become interesting...

"Lady Landra!" And there was that blush at full strength. Smiling, Aedan wondered if he could find out exactly how far it went.

"Hush, Landra, you'll turn the poor thing scarlet."

Well, Aedan thought, there was certainly no harm in seeing if she was interested, "Well, perhaps we should speak further sometime, Iona?"

"As it pleases you, my lord."

Lady Landra then sighed, and turning, placed her arm on the teryna's own. "I think perhaps I shall rest for a spell until the dinner bell. Dairren?" Dairren faced both Aedan and the ladies, and spoke up, "I think we'll retire to the study, if you'd care to speak further. Good afternoon, you're lordship."

Once the trio had departed, Dairren and Iona down and around to the library and Lady Landra up to the guest chambers, Aedan stepped closer to face his mother, who spoke up.

"You should say goodbye to Fergus while you have the chance."

Aedan couldn't help but give a sardonic grin, "I've been trying to. He's up in his chambers, I'm assuming?"

"Yes, saying his goodbyes to Oren and Oriana, no doubt."

Having hear the news from his father, Aedan was certain of the response his next question would garner, but even so, "I sure I know the answer, but are you positive I can't ride off into the sunset to face the darkspawn hordes?"

His mother huffed and crossed her arms. Letting out a sigh she replied, and the words held every bit of steel he could remember his mother having, "Yes darling, you'll just have to sit this one out. I know it's difficult to stay in the castle and watch others ride off, but we must all see to our duties first. You understand that, don't you?"

Pulling her aside and into alcove, a bit further out of public eye and earshot, Aedan turned her steady gaze back upon her, "I know, but speaking of, there's something going on that has father on edge. What's happened?"

She sighed again, "Nothing new dear, just…word from the capital and news regarding the darkspawn. There's been some unrest. How did your father look, to make you worry so?"

"He's hiding it well. So…Lady Landra decides to visit just now, why?"

"I invited her. As I'll be traveling to visit with Bann Loren for a short while, it seemed appropriate. This way there won't be any issues regarding command as you take control of the terynir, it may assist in establishing your authority."

Ah, that made sense. It figured his mother would realize that her lovingly iron reign of control over her boys would be known throughout the terynir. "Sensible, I appreciate it."

"Speaking of being sensible, Iona, darling, really?"

"I've no interest in a relationship, but if she seems amenable to the idea, I've no reason not to be…cordial."

"You're old enough to manage your own affairs and you know our rules. So long as you aren't fathering any children, you're free to do as you please. But Landra is a guest of ours; I do _not_ expect to let it affect that."

"Of course, now about these Grey Wardens…"

"Maker's breath! Aedan…" She nearly exploded, throwing her arms up, but trailed off at the sound of his laughter.

"I'm sorry mother, but I had to get you smiling again! I'll see you at dinner, I'm off to Fergus."

The ramp up to his family's chambers was long, but within a few minutes, he'd passed the pair of guest suites and entered the family's hall. Off to his right, the door to his brother's chambers was open, and he could hear to conversation from across the hallway as he neared. "Is there reelly going to be a war papa, will you bring me back a sward?" Oren, Aedan's rambunctious nephew, was clearly focusing on the important aspects. And, as he expected, Fergus' calm voice replied, his silver tongue deftly picking up on Oren's fear and quelling it.

"That's "sword," Oren, and I'll get you the mightiest one I can find, I promise. I'll be back before you know it."

"I wish victory was indeed so certain, my heart is…disquiet." That would be Oriana, Fergus' reserved wife. An Antivan woman from a wealthy merchant family that Fergus had met while squired away in the Free Marches, she had returned with him to live in Ferelden. It was a lucky match, bringing both political and economic gain, and even better, the two were clearly in love. Additionally, it had favored Aedan, as with his brother wed and Oren soon born, much of the pressure to take a bride had fallen away. Though admittedly, the shorter Antivan had quite the temper when it came to Aedan properly corrupting his young nephew.

Aedan came to the doorway and caught his brother's gaze before entering, "Don't frighten the boy, love. I speak the truth! And here's my little brother to see me off. Now dry your eyes, love, and wish me well."

Fang, having enough of the talk, padded over to Oren and rolled onto his back, demanding a belly rub, and Oren, smiling, knelt and began scratching away. Aedan gave his sister-in-law a grin, "Come now, Oriana, No darkspawn could harm Fergus!"

But her worry hadn't abated, pragmatic woman. "He is as mortal as anyone, despite his refusal to believe."

"Now love, no need to be grim."

Turning, Aedan addressed Fergus with the reason he'd been sent in the first place. Best to get business out of the way, after all, "I bring a message, brother. Arl Howe's troops are delayed; father wants you to ride out with the army today. He'll be joining the arl and his men as soon as his troops arrive."

"Maker, you'd think his men were walking backwards!" Sighing to himself, Fergus looked off into the distance for a moment, lost in thought. Aedan spoke up, bringing him back to the fore.

"I do wish I could go with you."

"I wish you _could_ come, it'll be tiring killing all those darkspawn by myself."

Oriana was well aware of Fergus' strengths, but had yet to see Aedan commanding in battle. Still, she was a level-headed woman, "Surely your father would not place both his heirs in danger."

Fergus, however, knew him, and understood that despite the danger, having Aedan in the field would be a boon to the teryn's army. "Mother and father have been fighting about it for days. It's too bad; I could have used you at my side."

And Aedan knew his brother's as well, "And the terynir could use your guidance- you'll be missed, here, brother."

Fergus' mouth split into a grin, "If it's any consolation, I'm sure I'll freeze in the southern rain and be jealous of you warm and safe back here." Oriana, not one to let such an opportunity pass replied.

"I am positively _thrilled_ that you will be so miserable, husband."

The two brothers shared a laugh, and Aedan turned to question his older sibling, "You've likely heard more than I, how long do you think this incursion'll last?"

Fergus' countenance drew grim and his voice hard, "Word from the south is the battles have gone well. There's no evidence that this is a true blight, just a large raid."

Oriana's face grew hopeful, and she asked, "Could that be true?"

"I'll see for myself soon enough. Pray for me, love, and I'll back before the fall's harvest."

An optimistic view, but one could always hope. Though with many of the terynir's men and women in the army, the harvest would have to be carefully managed to make sure everything could be taken in before the coming winter. "Fair enough. So…have you met the wardens visiting the castle, yet?"

At this, Oren leapt up from Fang and raced over, eyes wide and grinning from ear to ear, "Reelly? Was he riding a griffin?"

"Shush, Oren, Griffins only exist in stories, now."

As Oriana tended to his son, Fergus' smile reappeared, and he turned to Aedan, "I'd heard, yes, but I haven't met them yet. Has the Commander spoken of any potential recruits?"

"Father recommended several of the younger guardsmen, along with Ser Gilmore."

Fergus' eyes lit up, and he looked Aedan up and down, one eyebrow quirked upwards, "Oh? If I was a Grey Warden, little brother, I'd have my eye on you. Not that father would ever allow it."

Aedan shrugged. It was a fun idea, and he couldn't deny that the thought of the glory and adventure was tempting, but his place was with his family, and he wouldn't change that for anything. "And not that I would ever want it. The Grey Wardens are a noble order deserving of respect and aid, but I'm happy to serve our family first and give the order whatever political support I can muster."

"And glad I am to hear it!" The teryn strode into the room, the teryna at his side, "I do hope you weren't planning on taking your leave of us without saying goodbye".

"Be well my son, I will pray for your safety every day you are gone."

At this, Aedan couldn't help but comment. "A good shield might be more useful." As much as he believed in the Maker, he doubted the deity was paying attention to all the mortals scurrying about. The Chantry was a prejudiced order built on a foundation of wishful thinking. That said, it most certainly helped to keep the morale up.

"Maker sustain and preserve us all; watch over our sons, husbands, and fathers, and bring them safely back to us."

Fergus, while a loyal Andrastian, was not above using the faith to tease his wife, "And bring us some ale and wenches! Er…for the men, of course."

"_Fergus!_ You would say this in front of your own mother?"

Oren simply looked up confused at the adults, "Wot's a wench? Is that the thing you pull on get bucket out o' the well?"

The teryn, smirking, decided to add in his two bits, "A wench is a woman who serves the ale in a tavern, Oren, or a woman who drinks a lot of ale."

"_Bryce!_ Maker's breath, it's like living with a pack of small boys!"

All three of the men chuckled at that, as true as the statement was. Fergus was the one to answer her, but his gaze found Aedan's as he did so, "I'll miss you, mother dear. You'll take care of her, won't you brother?"

Catching his eyes and nodding imperceptibly, Aedan responded, "As if she needed it! Mother can take care of herself, always has."

"It's true; they should be sending her, not me. She'd scold those darkspawn back into the Deep Roads!"

Teryna Eleanor Cousland, however, was not so easily swayed, "Well I'm glad you find this so funny."

Aedan's father caught his attention, speaking, "Pup, I know you want to speak, and I gather you've at least picked up on whats going on. But with the guests here, I'll have my hands full tonight. We'll speak in the morning. Now, Fergus, come here. Duncan has brought word of the horde's composition." Aedan's father and brother stepped to the side, discussing the lastest intelligence and instructions for the army heading south. Feeling a tug on his gauntlet, Aedan turned down to face Oren, "Mama says you're going to be watching over us while papa's gone. Is that true, uncle?"

"Yes, Oren, that's true."

"What if the castle is attacked? Will there be dragons?"

Oriana was doing her best to temper him in the years before he would be squired away, "Dragons are terrible creatures, Oren, they eat people."

But even so… "Yeah, I wanna see one!" Oh yes, the Cousland blood was strong in this one.

"This is your influence, Fergus."

Turning from his father for a moment, Fergus took the role of peacemaker, "Wasn't me, blame Aedan," by quickly shifting the blame onto Aedan's shoulders. Bugger.

"Are you gonna teach me to use a sword so I can fight evil too?" Gesticulating wildly, Oren began fighting imaginary creatures all about him, "Take that dire bunny! All darkspawn fear my sword of truthiness!"

Stilling Oren with a hand on his shoulder, Aedan knelt beside him, "You bet, but we'll have to work together to convince your mother." And after whispering in his nephew's ear, the pair looked up at Oriana with the biggest and saddest eyes they could manage.

"I'm thinking…no."

Fergus returned to say his final goodbyes before departing, "Don't worry son, you'll get to see a sword up close real soon, I promise. Off we go then, so many darkspawn to behead, so little time. I'll see you soon, my love."

As the family departed, Fergus' family to the courtyard and his parents to the Great Hall, Aedan finally took the time to enter his quarters and change his clothes, dry as they were by now. Unstrapping off his weapons and leathers, he hung the armor up on the rack beside his wardrobe. Stripping the sleeveless tunic off, he snagged one of the more formal ones out of the drawers and slipped it on. Retying the sword belt about his waist, he whistled to Fang and left the room.

It was time to get some answers.

* * *

Long Author's Note, sorry: Two elements to this world I feel I should clarify, as they will play a significant role in this story, and weren't covered in the game because they didn't need to be: traveling times and item storage.

Travel: I'm going to take hopefully an interesting route and base it off the drops of blood that appear on the map as you move from one place to another. The unfortunate side effect of this is the implication that Ferelden is not really a large country, but so be it. That said, apparently the Circle of Magi's Tower can be reached in a single day from Redcliffe by boat, so perhaps it isn't too much of a stretch. If anyone has a way to refine this idea, please review or PM me, I'd be happy to hear it. So:

½ drop per day = the civilian rate, i.e. they move one drop of blood every two days.

1 drop per day = the party and various armies' rate when traveling by foot.

2 drops per day = the party and various armies' rate when traveling at a forced march.

3 drops per day = the party and various armies' rate of travel on horseback

When traveling along the Tevinter highways scattered across the land, everyone receives an extra drop's worth of travel speed.

9 drops per day = griffin speed, because they're awesome like that.

Therefore, Highever to Ostagar will be about a two week trip at a forced march. Approximately 38 drops, 30 of which are on the highways leads to 14 days of travel.

Item Storage: To rationalize all the various things the party loots, along with having to bring along travel supplies (tents, cooking gear, food, water, etc.) I'm going to resurrect an old tabletop favorite and make them fairly prolific in the world, with explanations in story: The Bag of Holding. I'm justifying it as something the Tranquil, Dwarves, or Dalish could all make using runework, and as such there are varying qualities and shapes of bags, so people can upgrade. And no, bags of holding cannot be placed into bags of holding, far too easy a cheat. Blame the mystical runic whatnot that makes them bags of holding in the first place, I claim deus ex machina.

So, as lighthearted and savvy as Aedan is right now, I'm going to be making the effort to have him go through some pretty dramatic transformations. Obviously he is a Warrior, and he'll focus on 2x Swords/Sword and Dagger, with a backup Sword and Shield style for defensive combat.

As for Natia, characterization-wise, she's similar to Sigrun, (who may or may not show up, I haven't decided yet) but she'll have her own twist on things. Visually, she's largely based on the fantastic works by Aimo, and in particular, her Lady Aeducan, go google them! Obviously, though, I went with the casteless route for her. And no, the crossbow isn't Bianca, nor similar in design; crossbows in general are simply the weapon I envisioned her favoring and therefore being good at. And I hope her speech wasn't too off-putting, I tried to make it rough without making her look like an idiot. Clearly, she's a Rogue with her focus primarily on Archery, backed up with 2x Daggers.

Finally, it took me forever to decide on a name for Dog (without using Dog itself or avoiding the name and polling) and I decided to honor the Harry Potter series by naming him Fang, after Hagrid's boarhound. Figure it's simple enough to avoid confusion or pissing off the masses, though Barkspawn is always a tempting classic. Additionally, I don't think his lineage is that much of a stretch given Bryce's and therefore Aedan's rank in the Ferelden political hierarchy. But if it seemed too out there, let me know. It won't play a big part in the scheme of things. Fang is a Dog class Dog using the Dog talents from the Dog tree.

Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2: Betrayal

Disclaimer: Dragon Age: Origins and anything associated with it are the property of Bioware and EA. No copyright infringement is intended.

EDIT: After writing the next chapter and looking back, I realized this was simply too long for dealing with appropriate scene division, so I've split this chapter into two and made a few very minor changes. The third chapter is the new one.

* * *

Of Dogs and Men

Chapter 2: Betrayal

* * *

With several hours 'til dinner, Aedan had time to kill. Deciding to do the rounds of the castle and see if he could find out a little more as to the current political situation, he left the family's chambers, intent on grilling his instructor, Aldous. The sage had often acted as an advisor to his father. Making his way to the library, Fang at his heels, he thought of what he had figured out.

Entering his tutor's domain, Aedan took stock of the various pages and squires milling about the room. Their number included Aldous and a pair of young boys, probably in the middle of one of his famous lectures, and Natia, who had her face buried in a book off to the side and was absently flipping a knife in between her fingers. Striding over as Aldous spotted him, he went to speak with the old sage.

"Hello my dear boy. By chance, I am beginning to teach these young squires a bit of your family history"

"Do we have to?"

"History's boring!"

"Boys you are referring to the Couslands…the very family in whose castle you live? Show some respect!"

Well, Aedan couldn't abide that! Grinning to himself, if Fergus and he, along with the rest of the boys who squired at Highever had to deal with Aldous' lectures, these boys would as well, "They could do with a little discipline."

"Perhaps you'd help me with that. Might you join me in teaching this lesson?"

Aha! An opportunity for some answers. "Certainly, I'd be happy to."

"Wonderful. The Cousland history is long indeed, where shall we start?"

Now, how to breach the topic… "Actually, how about a lesson on recent events? Boys, you've seen the troops of Amaranthine about, I take it? Arl Howe's men?"

"Yes milord."

"Yes milord."

"And what do you know of the relationship between the Couslands and the Howes?"

"Has to do with Orlais, right?"

Aldous took the cue and began, "Indeed, the history between the Couslands and Howes reaches back to the Orlesian occupation. During the rebellion, several battles fought near Highever and its territories."

Okay, good, Aedan knew this one. "One of which was for the port village of Harper's Ford, central to the terynir's commerce and economy."

Clearly pleased, Aldous picked up. "Now, the arl of Harper's Ford was Tarleton Howe, a rather taciturn fellow."

Before the boys could get a word in edgewise, something observing Aldous and his father had taught Aedan the value of, he continued, "My grandfather openly supported the rebellion; however, the Howes sided with Orlais."

"Hostilities naturally ensued, and the Couslands were forced to seize Harper's Ford before it was all over."

Aedan shrugged, "An unfortunate action, but a necessary one. We couldn't lose control of that economic stronghold."

Aldous finished the tidbit. "Correct. That caused rift between the two families. The Howes eventually joined the rebellion when all of Ferelden united behind Maric and Loghain, just as now we unite behind Maric's son, Cailan, to fight the darkspawn." Turning away from the boys, he addressed Aedan once more, "Thank you for indulging an old man."

"Aww! Do we have to listen to you again?"

Aedan managed to restrain his laughter; he knew what was coming next. The words were practically etched in his head given the number of times Aldous had to say them to Aedan and his brother. "Silence! I won't have the pair of you becoming smart mouthed hooligans!" to Aedan, he continued before walking off and mumbling, "Perhaps you should go; I doubt they need any more distractions. I'm just going to walk over here, and apparently just talk to myself…"

Affecting the disappointed frown his father had taken whenever he'd decried one of the tutor's lectures, he gave the boys a stern glance before following the sage to his corner. "Aldous, I've a question, if I may."

The old man's sour mood evaporated, partly from having an inquisitive target and partially from no longer having to play the grumpy old tutor. "Of course, dear boy, what's on your mind?"

"There's something going on behind the scenes here, more than simply worry over the darkspawn, have you heard anything you can share?"

Aldous sighed, "Nothing definite, Aedan, simply talk of unrest in the capital. With word of the darkspawn amassing and with so few Grey Wardens, King Cailan has spoken of calling for the wardens of Orlais to assist. You can imagine how that's gone over."

Ah, that did indeed shed some light on the matter. "I take it Teryn Loghain was less than pleased."

"Indeed, and the rest of the nobles have been split on the matter. From what I can tell of your father, he wouldn't want to let the Orlesians across the border, but if the darkspawn prove to be such a great threat? You can see the dilemma."

"Of course, thank you Aldous."

"I understand you'll be keeping watch while the army is down south, should you need any council, you know where to find me."

Aedan nodded, and left, striding over to Natia, who noticed him and looked up, smiling.

"Aedan! Take a look at this! If I'da known there were books like this, I'd've tried to read more often!" Glancing down, he took in "The Art of Passionate Love", by Brother Capria. Fantastic book, and so wonderfully useful. Perhaps there was an opportunity here…

"Lovely book! Just…trust me on this, don't look at page ninety-four. You'll, ah, not be able to put it out of your mind easily..." Hook.

A look of disguised intrigue passed her face, "What's on page ninety-four?" Line.

"Just trust me; you're better off not knowing." And walking away towards the study, where Dairren had said he and Iona would be, he glanced over his shoulder to see Natia with eager eyes, quickly flipping through the pages." Sinker, perfect.

Opening the door, he saw Dairren and Iona relaxing in several of the stuffed armchairs his grandfather had favored. As Fang padded over to Iona, Aedan approached Dairren, the young noble quickly standing to his feet, "Hello again. Your castle's study is wonderful! Might I ask whose collection this is?"

"It was my grandfather's, but I come here often to read." That was somewhat of an understatement. Growing up, he hadn't needed to be constantly visiting the other nobles and lords that Fergus had required to prepare him for taking over the terynir. As such, Aedan was able to spend much of his time practicing, hunting, or studying. On rainy days he could often be found here in the study, as his grandfather paid no heed to Chantry law and had collected numerous rare and knowledgeable volumes. This was easily his second favorite place in the castle, right behind the practice field.

"So would I, do you have a favorite book?"

Thinking of Natia, he quipped, "'The Art of Passionate Love,' by Brother Capria's always a…fun read."

"Oh that was banned by the Chantry, wasn't it? Quite…provocative, I understand. I've ah, never read it myself."

Aedan's mouth quirked into a grin, "Well, it isn't truly meant for reading. The warden, Natia, has our copy out there if you'd fancy a look."

"Er…I'll pass, if you don't mind, my lord."

"Relax, Dairren, I'm only joking. Enjoy the study, there are plenty of other great books about." Blushing, the young man nodded and sat back down, reopening to the compendium of dragon lore in his lap, and Aedan moved over to join Fang beside Iona. At his arrival, the lady-in-waiting looked up from his dog and to him.

"He is a wonderful hound; he seems very noble and intelligent." Fang let out a happy bark at her praise. Well that was certainly a point in her favor, "Greetings once again my lord."

Okay, so how to find out if she was interested, while making Aedan's own interest evident. Aha! Small talk. "I haven't seen many elven ladies in waiting, if you don't mind my saying."

"Not at all, Lady Landra has been very good to me. If I may, your mother has no ladies-in-waiting, herself. Is that usual for a noblewoman of her rank?"

Aedan smiled to himself; indeed, his mother certainly was one of a kind. He doubted there was a lady-in-waiting or three that could manage to keep up with her. "Judging by your accent, you're Ferelden born as she is. I think independence runs in our blood at this point; though if she found a maiden such as you, I might just encourage her."

"You are…very kind, my lord. I am nobody special… You make me blush."

Deciding to move the conversation back to a safer topic as he leaned against the table, he pressed onward, "So how did you come to know Lady Landra?"

"My family has been in service to hers for many years. Lady Landra elevated my place as a reward for our loyalty. I hope this position might pass to my daughter."

Interesting. "You have a daughter?"

"Forgive me; I shouldn't have mentioned her."

"No no, it's quite alright, I bet she has your beautiful eyes."

"She…does. Many people say she looks a great deal like me. I am the only one who sees her father in her."

Aedan could hear the love in her voice, and for the life of him, it warmed his heart. The Orlesian occupation had made many orphans, all across Ferelden. Though the Chantry and some people helped where they could, it would never have been enough. The last few generations were an angry lot, indeed. "It's obvious you care a lot for her, and that speaks quite well of you. But, if you'll pardon the intrusion, you don't hope for more for her?"

"I have risen very high for my people. I would not tempt fate by wishing more."

"So…tell me more about yourself."

"I am an open book, my lord. What would you like to know?"

Lovely, this could be fun. "From where do you hail?"

"Lady Landra's manor is not half so large as your castle, so my family lives in the Alienage."

"I admit I haven't seen enough of them to judge one way or the other. Do you enjoy living there?" And indeed he couldn't. In his lifetime, Aedan had only ever been to the alienages in Highever and Denerim. Both visits had been with his father, to broaden his view of all those he may end up ruling one day. The sense of such close community had been...both warm and tragic, and Aedan had a few fond memories of Denerim's kind hahren, Valendrian.

"There we do not…stand out quite so much. In an alienage, my daughter learns what it means to be elven…as much as possible. So much of our history has been lost."

"And is there anyone special back home?"

"No longer, I have little time for such things."

Well, that was indeed a bit odd. The lady was quite comely and had indeed done very well for herself; Aedan wondered what had become of her daughter's father, "Surely you're joking. Someone as beautiful as you?"

"You flatter me my lord. I am not so pretty that suitors are lining up, if that's what you mean."

"Oh, so how do you feel about humans?"

"That is…an awkward question. What do you mean?

"Do you find humans attractive? The reverse is certainly true enough."

Her cheeks reddened, "Some humans, yes. Without question."

Given the blush she now sported, he supposed it was time he simply asked if she was interested, "If you're agreeable, I'd like to get to know you better."

Acting the coy maiden, she clearly sought to read his intentions, "Aren't we doing just that? What else did you have in mind?" Aedan was ashamed to know it, but even he was aware that not all nobles were raised with the same respect towards elves and women, let alone elven women.

"Something a little more…intimate, perhaps later on in my room?"

"I…I see. I think I might like that. If I come to your door once everyone is asleep…would that be agreeable, my lord?"

Okay, clearly he needed to put her a little more at ease, "Only if you will call me Aedan, Iona."

She approached, and whispered into his ear, "Until tonight then."

Gathering Fang to his heels, Aedan smiled and backed away, and Iona returned to her armchair and books. Leaving the study, he turned to watch the resolution of his little prank. Natia sat at the table with a terrified look upon a face that stared out at nothing. Grinning, he walked over.

"You looked, didn't you?

"How do they even…?"

"It's more a mage thing, I think. Ready access to fire and all."

"But what abou'…?"

"Gives all those staff jokes a whole new light, doesn't it?"

"I s'pose, but when can-"

"It's the robes, makes all the difference."

"_And people _do_ that_?"

"It's more common than you might imagine." Taking in the horrified look on her face, Aedan couldn't help the belly laugh that escaped him. "Though I will admit to having never tried it personally."

"I think I'll avoid skipping ahead…back to the Antivan Milkmaid for me."

"Another wonderful practice! I'll leave you to it."

Leaving the library, Aedan aimed to go see Mother Mallol; the senior priest of the castle's chantry, who'd served in such a capacity since before Aedan had been born. However, as they were heading down towards the temple, Fang suddenly cocked his head and strolled onto a different ramp, the one leading to Castle Highever's Treasury and first Armory. Aedan quickly followed the hound, trusting the dog's instincts to lead him where he was needed. Or, he supposed, lead him to a good throwing stick.

He heard the laughter before he reached the door, and Aedan frowned to himself. Pushing it open, he surprised the two guards at the table, who leapt up to face him. "Oh! My lord, we were just…ah…"

"Playing cards?"

"Well…the treasury's safe… I'm not even sure why the teryn stationed us here…"

Well, he supposed he ought to begin asserting some authority, and there was no time like the present. Still, no need to be draconian about it, a smidge of kindness could start him earning the men's loyalty and respect. "No matter if they be allies, there are plenty of people in the castle from abroad; it's best to be on the safe side. I know it's boring, but back to work gents."

Dreading the work but clearly relieved to get off without further punishment, the two guards left the table and moves back to their stations. "Yes my lord, thank you. We won't forget this."

Nodding to the men, he left, and continued his way back up the ramp and down the long passage. The chantry was off to the side at the end of the hallway. Upon reaching the open doorway, he came to a stop and listened to the good mother chanting. "Maker, prepare a place for us. Redeem our world from sin, and forgive our transgressions."

"Maker, forgive us all!"

She caught his gaze, and beckoned him inwards, "Have you come to pray for your brother and father? I'd be happy to ask for the Maker's blessings with you."

"I would appreciate that, Mother Mallol."

A small smile passed her lips, "Please child call me Mallol, I've known you since you were a wee babe, after all. Creator of the sky, the land, and the sea, hear your people in our time of need."

Aedan bowed his head and held his tongue. Similar in ways to Aldous, Mallol often served in an advisory capacity to the teryn. However, Mallol was also the priest who handled the majority of blessings and services in the castle. Much as he might not like the Chantry, the men and women serving Highever clearly felt better knowing that their lord appeared as devoted as them. It was something his father had taught him before his squirehood, bringing him into the master chambers and sitting him down to explain once Aedan had begun chafing at the seemingly endless chantry services.

"Let no man have cause to fear the shadow, let their souls be lifted upon your return. So let it be."

There had been a book in his grandfather's collection, banned by the Chantry, which had stirred his thoughts on the matter. It was both a philosophical and political treatise, and had, in part, advocated religion as one of the surest methods of political advancement and control. After reading it, he could see the appeal of such an outlook. Considering himself fortunate to live in Ferelden, he looked out at the Orlesian Empire and the Anderfels, both devout Andrastian states. Even worse were the ancient Tevinter Imperium and their Old Gods, back before the first blight.

"Your faith is silent tonight, and there are many more who must receive the Maker's blessings before they leave. If you will excuse me?"

"Of course, thank you, Mallol"

"It is the least I could do. If the worst comes to pass, child, take comfort in knowing that the

Maker's will takes many forms." Once more, that soft smile crossed her face, and she finished, "We shall talk once all the soldiers have departed."

That gave Aedan an idea, and with a few hours left to kill before dinner he brought Fang outside the castle for a jaunt about the castle's grounds. With the Fergus and the teryn's army having left, the surrounding area seemed quite empty, and he knew Fang would appreciate the outing.

Walking past the guards barracks and mess hall outside, Aedan and Fang came to the practice field, several of the castle's guardsmen practicing their archery. The man belting out orders was Ser Hadrian, Ser Gilmore's father and the teryn's Master-at-Arms. He'd been the one to, along with his father, begin instructing Aedan and Fergus in the various disciplines of combat. The hefty old knight had been a familiar mustachioed face about the castle for many years.

"Afternoon, Hadrian!"

"Greetings, my lord. Out for a stroll?" He was also, clearly, the source of Ser Gilmore's iron-willed propriety.

"Fang's been excitable all day. I take it you'll be riding out with my father with the arl's men?"

"Indeed, Gilmore'll be taking over in my absence. He'll keep the guard in top shape."

That was good to know, there wouldn't be any issues regarding command or incompetence to deal with there. "I appreciate that, Hadrian" His disappointment at being on the sidelines must have shown on his face, however, for the old knight quickly clapped him on the back.

"Chin up, my lord. There'll be glory aplenty in time. We've all got our duty to do. Speaking of which, Danners! Watch your form, boy! That longbow's yew! It won't just scrape your arm; it'll set it on bloody fire! If I've got to come over there one more time… Beg pardon, my lord, I'll leave you in your hound's capable paws."

Laughing, Aedan continued after Fang, who was chasing something by the edge of the field. The time flew past, however, and pretty soon, the dinner bell had sounded and he was whistling Fang back to heel.

Dinner was a loud occasion, with all the family, guests, and officers that joined them in the dining hall and all the elven servants rushing about with food and drink. Aedan's father and mother sat at the head table, flanked by Duncan and Arl Howe. The four were enjoying the night before a long military campaign as old soldiers did, by getting as much laughter, family, and hot food as they could bear.

With Aedan's seat given up to Arl Howe, he sat at the end of the right side table, next to Oriana. His sister-in-law was trying in vain to restrain her son, who was seated next to the curvy dwarf. Natia was entertaining Oren with tales of her escapades back in Orzammar as the two of them fed Fang scraps of meat under the table, much to Oriana's distress. It was a good night; Nan having outdone herself, all complaining aside. Aedan spent half the night in discussion with Oriana, and the other half jesting and laughing with the officers who were sitting on the opposite side of the table.

As the night wore on, a few people began drifting away, retiring to their quarters. Finally, as Oren with a bellyful of food began nodding off, Aedan stood and moved to pick him up. "I've got him, Oriana, would you go tell father I'll be retiring for the night?"

The Antivan woman nodded and walked over to the head table, bending down to address the teryn before rejoining him along with Fang at the door to the hallway. It was a quiet walk up to Fergus's chambers, and after he placed Oren down in the small side room that functioned as his, Oriana bid him a good night.

Aedan walked over to his chambers and entered, walking over to the small cabinet next to his bed. Reaching under the drawer, he withdrew a small flask, sealed with wax, and placed it on top of the cabinet. Fang had settled down on the bed of rags in the corner he'd claimed for his own, and was quickly asleep.

It wasn't long before Aedan was in the middle of removing his tunic when a quiet knock came from the door. Removing the garment, he turned as Iona slid into the room and shut the door behind her.

"Good evening…Aedan."

"And to you as well, Iona, you look…."

Smiling faintly, the elven lass moved to join him near the bed, and began to lightly run her hands across his chest, noting the various scars and tattoos that dotted it. Aedan's own hands began to caress her back, catching and undoing the laces that held her dress in place. Coming to his senses for a moment, he pulled away and took her hands in his.

Nodding to the flask on the cabinet, he spoke, "I know this is a bit forward, so I apologize, but I've a tincture of wild carrot I'd like to entrust to your use."

"That is…very thoughtful. I appreciate it." She brought his hands up to her face and kissed them, before moving them lower, until they were back to unlacing her garments. Aedan needed no further compulsion, and began to do so eagerly. Before long, the top half of her dress was considerably loosened, and pulling it away, Aedan drank in the sight of her bared breasts, each a handful that complimented her lithe frame well.

Bending his head, he began trailing kissed from the top of her neck southward, until her head lolled to the side with a breathy moan. Taking advantage, he quickly bent and scooped her up, prompting the moans to turn into a startled cry. Turning, he laid her down on the bed's warm furs and following, climbed over her and catching her lips with his own. It would be the first kiss they shared that night, but far from the last, and far from the most heated.

* * *

The feel of Iona pulling away and getting up jogged him out of his rest, but the sound of Fang's frantic barking roused him to immediate wakefulness. There was worry and fear in the hound's voice, and it sent him scrambling. Turning to his left and setting his bare feet on the cool stones of his chambers, he grabbed the pair of breeches that had been cast aside on the floor before last night's revelry and slid them on.

Rising from the bed, her head looking back and forth between Fang and himself, Iona began to speak, "Your hound is making so much noise, he seems so frightened!"

"Perhaps something is wrong. Fang! To me." Quickly Aedan snagged the sleeveless tunic he'd been wearing to hunt the other day and began slipping it on as Fang quieted down to a low growl and padded to his side.

"There seems to be something going on in the hallway, I'll go see what it is," and she began moving toward the doorway. Aedan had barely slipped on the tunic and shouted, "Wait!" before the door was knocked askew and Iona was flying backwards, an arrow planted in her chest. Grabbing his sword off the rack by his bedside, he unsheathed it and lunging forward, shouted,

"Fang! The archer!"

As Fang raced around and onward, the soldier who'd kicked down the door met his lunge with his shield, deflecting it and bringing his mace downward in a vicious overhand. Aedan twisted, dodging it, and brought his sword around and up, catching the man's mace arm at the elbow. As the limb sheared off, the man reeled back and Aedan brought the sword up and around, slicing him cleanly across the throat. Knocking the corpse to the side, He leapt forward, watching as Fang tore into the archer's leg as the man tried to beat and shake him off.

With the soldier's attention on his mabari, Aedan quickly flanked him and caught his blade under the man's flailing left arm, thrusting quickly into the side of his torso and withdrawing his blade.

As Fang quickly released the leg, Aedan heard a pair of shouts from his left and turned, just in time to catch the arrow meant for his heart in his upper shoulder. "Fang, again!" Swiftly, the mabari ran under the two men charging his master and lunged at the archer supporting them from afar. This of course, left Aedan to deal with the two grunts. Lovely.

Catching the lead soldier's blade across his own, Aedan parried it to the side and pistoned his left foot out and into the soldier's gut, knocking him to the floor. He paid for it in a shallow gash across his sword arm from the first man's companion. Turning, he ducked under the man's next slash and brought his sword up, hitting his armpit and taking off his shield arm. As the man screamed out, Aedan brought his sword around and relieved the man of his head. Fortunately, this also stopped the wild screaming.

The first man, however, had regained his feet and was watching Aedan warily over the edge of his shield. His shield, which bore on its front a brown bear over a quartered yellow and white banner, Howe's coat of arms. The shock must have shown on his face, because the man suddenly stepped forward, swinging his shield around and catching Aedan across his sword arm, quickly raised to protect his body. It wasn't enough, however, and the blow sent him to the floor. The soldier quickly brought his sword back to thrust downwards, but his arm was quickly restrained.

Luckily for Aedan, that method of restraint came in the form of a very large, very angry, very loyal mabari hound that had his jaws locked around the man's arm, slowly but surely tearing the limb out of its socket. Scrabbling, Aedan closed his hands around the hilt of his blade and standing, lunged forward, thrusting it through the leather plate that guarded the soldier's chest.

Upon hearing the last gurgle escape his mouth, Aedan relaxed a fraction and, planting his off-hand onto the armor in front of him, pulled the blade free from where it had completely impaled the soldier. Fang, too, had released the man and now padded over softly to whine at Aedan's state. Kneeling to scratch him, Aedan looked past and saw the archer lying prone, her neck a bloody mess, "Good work, Fang."

The sound of a door creaking open had him turning toward his parent's chambers. Apparently satisfied, the door opened fully and his mother stepped outwards, clad in her set of hunting leathers and bearing her shortbow across her back. Aedan stood completely and moved to meet her in the middle of the hall.

"Darling, are you alright? I heard shouting and feared the worst!"

Gritting his teeth, Aedan set his sword down at his side and gripped the arrow in his shoulder with both hands, bracing and then breaking it off. While enough of the shaft remained to make pulling it out easy, it wouldn't hinder him in combat any longer. "I'm fine, mother, though Iona was killed. Are you and father safe?"

She reached Aedan's side, and bending, grabbed his sword and the soldier's shield off the floor before offering them to him, "I don't know. He never retired to our chambers earlier. When I heard the fighting, I barred the door and- Maker's breath! These are Howe's men!"

Aedan took a moment to catch his breath and calm his heart as best he could with the flames of outrage coursing through his veins, "Yes, looks like he's betrayed father and Highever."

"You don't think his troops were delayed…on purpose, do you?"

"Seems likely, once Fergus was off, he'd have us all here to-" All of a sudden, the door leading to the rest of the castle burst open and three more of Howe's soldiers rushed in. Spinning and taking off towards them, Aedan called over his shoulder, "Mother! Get to Oriana and Oren! Fang, with me!"

Watching coldly as Fang leapt up and bore the first man down under his weight, jaws and paws tearing away, Aedan brought his shield up to block the next man's swing and caught the blade in the wooden buckler. Twisting it to his left, he stepped in and brought his blade downward, catching the man in the juncture between his head and shoulder and opening a cleft that would surely kill him. Jerking his shield away from the man's blade, he pivoted in time to lessen the impact from the third man's mace, catching it across his side. Damn, the ribs there were bruised at least, if not broken.

As the soldier came shouting wildly back for another swing, Aedan continued his pivot and brought his shield around and beat his attacker across the skull, dropping him like a sack of flour. Flipping the sword in his hand until it pointed downward, he thrust it into the man's throat, ending the threat he bore to his family permanently.

His breath coming a little raggedly now, Aedan moved to the wall next to the doorway, and glanced through and into the hallway beyond. Fang, sensing his mood, padded silently over to the opposite side of the doorway. There were three more soldiers, two archers and a man bearing of all things a battle axe. "Fang, when I charge, attack the archer on the left, I'll handle the right one and we'll take the lumberjack together." A quiet yip was his hound's reply.

Barely seconds passed before both archers had turned wholly away from the door to watch as the axman broke down the door to the guest quarters. Aedan charged, and Fang split off behind him, letting out a ferocious growl and racing at the leftmost archer. Surprised as they were, both archers managed to raise their bows, arrows already nocked and loosed them. Fang dodged the first and Aedan caught his through the upper half of his shield. Reaching his target and rushing past, Aedan's blade flashed out and cut through the archer's bow and neck in one clean swing.

Her head and the top of her bow tumbled to the floor, forgotten as Aedan closed on the blood-coated man running out of the chambers. His shield barely managed to deflect his first swing but was shorn nearly in two. Hearing Fang's triumphant bark, he knew that he would no longer be alone in the fight. Casting aside the shield and gripping his blade in both hands, he raised the sword to defend himself. Fortunately, the battle axe bearing soldier seemed to have much the same idea, drawing up the heavy weapon and preparing to meet his blow.

Fang, however, wasn't quite as patient as his master, and rushed in on his right flank, leaping to the side only when his axe descended in a massive overhand chop. Aedan took advantage of Fang's distraction to attack the soldier's unprotected left, but his blade glanced off the splintmail pauldron. Recovering, he lashed out again lower, trying to slice the small gap between the armor's chestplate and shoulder guard. It wasn't entirely successful, but he managed to score a gash along his side and front, along his chest. Unfortunately, by now he'd completely gained the soldier's ire, and the axe swung up, the flat of the blade catching him in the side before it could be completely turned to have the edge face him.

Knocked to the floor once again, he shook his head and watched as Fang took advantage of the axe-wielder's attack to latch on to his calf, tearing away at the armor strapped there. Aedan rose again, and stepped back a moment to ensure he wasn't about to be chopped in half, but the soldier had already spun his axe and was knocking Fang's head with the pommel of the shaft. The force was enough knock him loose of the man's leg, but in doing so it forced him to catch his balance, turning nearly halfway around to the right.

It was an opening Aedan couldn't and didn't ignore. Rushing in, he swept his blade downwards in a brutal slice that opened the axe man's back from shoulder to hip. The soldier tried to pivot and swing at him, a final act, but Aedan continued his forward momentum and brought his left fist up and across his face, knocking him to the ground, where he wouldn't rise again.

Catching his breath, Aedan moved over to check on Fang, but the mabari was already standing up, albeit a bit wobbly. "You alright, boy?" An affirmative bark was his answer, "Then come on, let's check the guest rooms and get back to Mother, Oriana and Oren. You check the far one, I'll see what our axman was up to." With Fang bounding away to the other suite, Aedan entered the room the axman had left from, and almost immediately wished he hadn't. Lady Landra had certainly been lucky the blow had likely killed her immediately, for she was literally split from head to toe.

Gritting his teeth and steeling his stomach, he left, and began to head over to the opposite suite when Fang left it, "Fang, was Dairren there?" The mabari simply gave a keening whine. Damnation, another dead, and still practically a boy. "Come one, let's get back quickly; we'll have to get the five of us out of here." A stoic yip answered him, and as he began jogging back towards Fergus' chambers, Fang falling in step.

It wasn't until he reached the doorway, however, that the true horror of this night would begin to reach him. Eleanor Cousland knelt with Oriana propped up in her lap, but there was far too much blood scattered around, and the dead soldier with his bruises and scratches told of fierce resistance. Wishing he didn't have to, Aedan looked around for Oren, and his eyes fell onto the two bundles near the unkempt bed. A pair of blood-stained lumps lay covered with a blanket, each about half Oren's size, and Aedan couldn't help whispering, "Howe, you bloody Maker bedamned son of a _qunari whore!_"

Eleanor started, and turning caught his gaze, and Aedan could see the red-rimmed eyes and tear stained face. "Aedan, come here, quickly! Do you have anything..?" And Aedan moved up and knelt in front of her at Oriana's side. His sister-in-law had clearly put up the fight, her hands were scratched and bruised, but the soldier's hand axe had clearly done its work well, Eleanor holding her upright was the only thing that was keeping her insides on the inside. Damnation, and no, he didn't have anything of the sort needed to fix this, if it even could be. Oriana turned her head a little to face him, and in between gasps, managed to cough out, "Aedan…Oren, I…tell Ferg," before descending into a series of coughing spasms. Aedan held her hand and Fang moved up, licking the other. The coughing subsided, and Oriana turned to Fang, giving a small smile before going limp.

She would die with that smile firmly planted.

Aedan rose, and taking Oriana's weight from his mother, laid her out on the ground, "Oren, Oriana, Maker watch over and guide you. Rest safely." Fang had wandered over to the bed and snagged one of the other blankets. Aedan took the proffered corner and the two laid it over her. Taking his mother's shoulder, he brought her up and spoke, "Mother, come, we need to find father and get you both out of here."

"Aedan, he was my little Oren…how could they? A boy?"

"Come on, Let me grab my leathers and we'll-" anything further was cut off by the sounds of more of Howe's troops entering the guest suites and shouting in surprise. Drawing his sword and snagging the shield off the how soldier on the floor, he left the room, calling back, "Damn! Fang, with me, same as before. Mother hold onto that rage. I need you to target any archers we come across and then cover Fang and me." Moving up, he heard the padding of paws and the muffled sounds of leather on stone.

Taking refuge just out of sight to the side of the doorway, Aedan took a quick look in, four soldiers, two archers and two bearing swords and shields. "Fang, the left. Mother, take the right archer and then whoever you get a good shot at." Seeing the two soldiers on the left kneel to examine the archer Fang had killed before, Aedan lunged forward with shield raised, focusing on the melee combatants. He saw his mother's arrow reach its target before he was halfway to his own. Fang and he reached their respective enemies almost simultaneously. Fang's archer had stood, but was fumbling with his bow when Fang tackled him to the stone.

Aedan's swordswoman was slightly more prepared, drawing her sword with her shield already on guard. It wouldn't be enough, as Aedan bashed the shield aside and caught the soldier's chest with an upward swing. Turning, he flowed with the momentum to bring his sword down to parry the second soldier's slash. Recovering, he pivoted to bring his shield to bear when suddenly the soldier's throat sprouted feathers, causing the man to lock up and fall to his knees.

Aedan's mother and Fang rejoined him and he nodded. Discarding the wooden Howe shield, he picked up the first soldier's targe, a small metal round shield that would serve him better for a bit. "Alright, mother. We need to find father and get you two out of here. Do you know where he'd be or go?"

"Wait! What about Landra and her boy! They both retired when I did…" Seeing her begin to move toward's Lady Landra's room, Aedan quickly interposed himself between her and the door. Shaking his head, he spoke in a low voice.

"We already checked, mother. You don't need to see her."

"Oh, my poor Landra! If I hadn't asked her…if she hadn't been here…"

Aedan cut her off, he needed her head as clear as it could get, "I'm sorry, mother. But now we need to focus on father."

Eleanor steeled herself, and apart from a slight quaver, her voice came out strong and steady. "Knowing him, he'd either be trying to reach us or trying to get to the servant's passage in the larder, but listen, darling, there's one other thing that must be kept out of Howe's hands. Our family's arms are locked in the treasury," looking him up and down and taking in Aedan's wounds, she continued, "along with enough armor to and boots to find something that would fit you." Hearing a crash, she and Aedan both cocked their heads to the side and listened for a moment. Hesitating, her voice came out in whispered iron, "My boy, listen to me. If the castle falls, of all things you must survive. As long as you and Fergus live, the Cousland blood lives on, do you understand me?"

Aedan began moving toward the hall and paths that would take them out to the rest of the castle. "Yeah, I understand. I don't like it, but I understand. We move."

And indeed they did, running quickly down the ramp towards the Great Hall. Catching sight of the burning debris and hearing feet, Aedan suddenly held an arm out and slid to a stop, but the man that raced around the corner was one of the elven servants. He called up to Aedan and the others, "My Lord, my lady! They're taking the castle! I'm getting out of here!"

Aedan felt a flash of irritation but nodded at him, shouting down as he and his mother ran past, "Get out and warn any others you see! _Go!_" Seeing several of the castle's guards fighting against Howe's men near the dining hall, he ran to join the fray calling out, "Fang! Protect mother while she covers me!" Aedan reached the men and catching a blade descending on one of his guards on the targe, turned it aside and plunged his blade into the attacking soldier's belly, pulling up and outwards. The guard teamed up with his companion, and Aedan made short work of the third soldier who's seen and attempted to flank him.

Hearing the clash of swords and shields, Aedan ordered the guards into the dining hall.

The room was a mess, with three of the Cousland guardsmen fending off six of Howe's bloody soldiers. Signalling the two behind him to assist the guard on the far left, who was facing a pair of soldiers at once, Aedan sprinted to the right and the wide space between the table and wall. Running, he put a foot first on the bench and, tensing up, leapt the table. As he reached the other side, he brought his blade down on the soldier who was facing away and took his head clear off with a messy spray.

Recovering himself, he caught the thrust aimed at his ribs on the metal targe, turning it aside. The woman was better than the last few fighters he'd faced, and she recovered quickly, blade lashing out to score a thin line or red across his stomach. Aedan brought his shield up and readied his blade, preparing to meet her attack.

He wasn't disappointed, and the woman lashed out with a feint before changing the blade's course. Aedan reacted to the first, but managed to recover and deflect the second. Whipping his sword around in a vicious turn he lopped the soldier's hand off at the wrist. At her scream, he lashed out with the targe, knocking her to the ground and out of breath. Quickly reversing his sword, he plunged it into her belly, and felt her go slack.

Looking over, he could see that one of the guards had fallen, the man who had been facing two soldiers. Aedan's reinforcements, however, had quickly moved in to avenge their fallen compatriot, and were holding their own against the pair, preventing them from supporting their fellow soldiers.

Aedan was about to move to the far side, where the only other soldier left alive was fighting a pair of guards already, but seeing it well in hand, he began running over to the one on one battles. Halfway across the room, one of the soldiers was suddenly knocked backwards, and arrow erupting from her chest, and the two guards, recovering quickly, moved to double team the remainder.

The skirmish ended shortly after, and Aedan rallied the surviving four, leading them out into the hall and onwards.

* * *

As Aedan commanded, they moved quickly, making short work of a group coming up from near the library, though Aedan paid for his bravado with an arrow to his lower leg. He glanced into the library, and seeing no one but the body of his tutor, Aldous, Aedan felt his heart clench just a little bit more. He'd have time to mourn later, however, and the group moved onward. Another gaggle of Howe's forces cried out and attacked them from the bottom of the ramp along with a pair of mabari. Eleanor and one of the guards, however, simply held the high ground and rained arrows down on the helpless soldiers. Aedan and Fang, on the other hand, engaged the mabari, making short work of them.

With Fang now sporting a long scratch across his flank, and Aedan a new set of claw marks across his hip, the group finally reached the alcove that led to the Armory. Aedan halted, and turned to the most senior of the guards fighting alongside them, "Alright, I need to armor up, take the men down to the chantry and reinforce whoever's left in there, then come back and we'll all hit the Great Hall." Watching briefly as the guard pounded his fist to his heart and ordered the men off, Aedan turned to see his mother unlocking the door to the treasury and armory.

Following her as she entered, he strode over to the racks of armor that dotted the walls. He supposed it was time to take the arrows out, damn. "Darling, suit up, I'll make sure Howe doesn't profit from this." Nodding to her, Aedan knelt and grasped the arrow in his calf, before gritting and yanking it out. Leaving the wound, he then steeled himself, and did the same with the arrow in his left shoulder. One of the guards had passed him a healing potion before he'd left, knowing what Aedan would have to do. Taking it out, Aedan uncorked the bottle and tossed it back, immediately feeling the magic work its way through his body. The pain in his ribs lessened a bit, and the bleeding from his wounds slowed to a crawl, though it didn't stop. Fang whined, and stepped out into the hall.

Turning to the armor racks, he quickly cast a weather eye over the suits lined up. His eyes finally landed off to his right on a full suit of heavy chain, its light green color revealing it as probably veridium; it would serve. Moving to it, he began the process of buckling on the plates and guards. His hands began working by themselves, only consciously surfacing to recognize the Cousland laurels emblazoned on the armor's single pauldron. He was nearly done, only strapping the last belt on, when his mother returned, passing him a pair of items on a belt. Looking down, he recognized the first as a money pouch, the second as one of the Cousland's bags of holding, and the belt they were strung on as an intricate cinch of dwarven make. Nodding, he tossed his first belt aside and slung the new one in its place. Looking to his mother, then, she simply passed him a sword and dagger, both in scabbards, and a metal kite shield. The family arms, what his father would have been wearing to war, had the night's events not altered those plans.

"Mother, what's in the-"

She cut him off, facing him fully, before turning and heading out back towards the hall, "As I said, Howe will not profit from this night." And Aedan saw the same pair of pouch and bag strung about her waist and lower back as his was. With the sword now firmly strapped over his shoulder, the dagger at his waist, and the shield on his arm, he followed her out into the hall and up the ramp.

Fang rejoined them then, an overly large stick lodged in his mouth. Aedan was incredulous, and knelt to scold the hound before he took a good look at the piece of wood. Tiny lyrium etchings ran up and down the length of it, and he could only imagine what it was used for. Taking the proffered gift and placing it in his pack, the scratched Fang between the ears, "Good find, boy."

"Aedan!"

Alarmed, he rose quickly, and saw what had startled his mother so. A group of six guards approaching from the chantry, completely soaked in blood, and at their lead, Ser Hadrian. The old knight was only in light armor, but bore his flamberge across his back. An Orlesian greatsword with a wavy blade, Ser Hadrian had claimed it during the rebellion against the Orlesian Empire.

"My lord, my lady! I'd feared the worst!"

"Ser Hadrian, what's the situation?"

"My lord, Mother Mallol is dead. Gilmore is holding the Great Hall, but the teryn left some time ago to find you, you did not encounter him?"

"No, he must have taken the other route, but it's blocked off. He'd have-" Aedan cut himself off at the sound of a heavy banging, the sound of a battering ram and a splintering door. "Men! To the Great Hall! We reinforce Ser Gilmore!" He charged off, the guards following suit, the side door to the Great Hall a good sixty feet away. Calling back, he ordered, "When we enter, guards will move to join Ser Gilmore and his men, follow his lead! Ser Hadrian, you and I will target Howe's lieutenant to break their command! Fang, protect mother!"

Reaching the door, he burst through and sprinting, allowed a moment to take stock of the situation. Ser Gilmore and three of the Cousland guards had toppled one of the room's tables and were taking cover from Howe's men, who had brought a bloody mage into the field. The Circle would never have condoned this, so it must be an apostate. Her aside, Howe's troops consisted of four archers along the back wall and a further twelve quickly advancing on Ser Gilmore's bulwark. Shouting out, he turned and lunged at the sorceress, "Hadrian, the mage! Guards to Gilmore!"

He heard Ser Gilmore shouting orders behind him, but Aedan was running full tilt towards the spellcaster when a pair of hapless soldiers got in his way. The first he caught on his shield and, ducking, flipped the man behind him and to the stone floor. The second was swinging her mace out to catch him across the head, and Aedan wasn't about to let that happen. Parrying the mace upwards, he knocked the woman off balance and brought his sword back down, splitting her face in two. Knocking the body to the side with his shield, he continued on, sparing a glance at Ser Hadrian as he did so.

The charging knight had swept out with a power that belied his age, bisecting one of Howe's troops and the shield he bore with his massive flamberge, and was advancing onward.

Aedan neared the mage and with no one between the two, his blade flashed out to catch her in the throat. It met some distortion in the air that blocked his view of the mage, but before Aedan could figure out what had happened, he was surrounded by fire.

Lots and lots of really hot fire.

Fortunately he'd had his shield raised, and it along with his armor deflected the worst of the blaze, until suddenly a massive weight plowed into his chest, knocking him out of breath and flat on his arse. Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, he looked up and saw a massive earth and stone fist on his chest dissolving into nothingness. Past that, he saw Ser Hadrian attacking and being repelled twice, but the woman was rocking slightly with each blow.

Regaining his footing and charging once more, he called out, "Hadrian! Keep attacking, she feels the blow!" Still blocking Ser Hadrian's attacks, the mage raised her staff at Aedan and once more his vision swam with fire. Bearing the Shield of Highever aloft, Aedan held the charge until he collided with the woman, knocking her to the ground. The fire didn't stop, however, but simply burned upwards, scorching Aedan until Ser Hadrian's sword descended and relieved the mage of her head.

Stepping to his feet, he turned to Ser Hadrian, only to see the knight charge the back wall, with two arrows in his back and one in his arm. Raising his shield in time to deflect an arrow aimed at him from one of the pair of surviving archers, he quickly surveyed the room. Ser Gilmore was prevailing, with seven of the surviving guards still in the fray and only a few of Howe's men alive and fighting. Turning to the nearest fight, he ran to lend his aid, and along with the guard, made short work of the soldier.

There was a lull in the fighting, then, and Aedan heard Ser Gilmore calling, "Reinforce the gates! Keep those bastards out as long as you can!" Oh, dear. The battle for the castle must have really been going poorly for the ever proper Ser Gilmore to break out the cursing. Striding over, Aedan met his mother, Ser Gilmore, and Ser Hadrian in the middle of the room. "Father! My lord, my lady! It's a relief to see you're all right, we were worried they'd gotten through."

Aedan took the lead, sighing, "They did, Oren and Oriana are dead. Have you seen the teryn?"

"Maker watch over them, I am sorry, my lady. And yes, the teryn left with the wardens to seek out and secure the servant's entrance in the larder."

"Then that's where we need to go."

Ser Hadrian turned to his son and clasped his shoulder, "Get going, Gilmore, and keep them safe. We'll buy you some time." At Ser Gilmore's shaky nod, the man turned and joined the guards in holding the doors closed, adding his considerable heft, "Come on men! Put your backs into it! We'll show these bastards what real soldiers can do! _For Highever!_"

Aedan and company ran from the room to the sound of resounding cheers and turned towards the long ramp up to the kitchens. As they drew closer, the sounds of blades on wood echoed back, and the party broke into a sprint.

Rounding the corner, Aedan took in the sight of five of Howe's men, one of whom was heavily armored and bore a maul. Charging, he cried out, "Gilmore! Fang! With me! Mother, stay at range!"

Aedan caught the first man with a bash from his shield, stunning and knocking him towards Fang, who eagerly took advantage. Ser Gilmore had engaged the heavy knight, Aedan was left to deal with the three- make that two, as his mother's arrows found their mark in the chest of the closest one. Quickly slinging the shield onto his back, catching it on the shoulder strap that ran crosswise, he drew out the dagger and flipped it end over end, beckoning the soldiers in. As the first charged, he parried the lunge with his sword and sliding past, planted the dagger in the base of her skull. Pivoting and catching the other man's sword with his own, Aedan twisted and disarmed him, reversing the dagger in his hand and thrusting the short blade under the soldier's guard and up beneath his chin. Withdrawing the dagger and letting the body fall, He moved to join Fang and Ser Gilmore in attacking the heavy knight.

The knight was swinging as fast as he could against Ser Gilmore, even restrained as he was by Fang's jaws around his leg. Clearly the armor was of decent quality to resist Fang' teeth. Slipping around to the side, Aedan reversed the dagger again, and waited for the Knight to swing once more to his left.

Ser Gilmore, seeing him, raised his shield, preparing to receive the blow instead of deflecting it. The knight took the bait and swung, connecting and sending Ser Gilmore into the wall. Aedan lunged forward, striking as fast as he could. The sword lodged itself in the knight's soldier between his head and shoulder and the dagger stabbed into the juncture between the heavy plate and helmet. The knight seized up, and Fang, giving a mighty wrench, yanked him off his feet. He wouldn't rise again.

Coming together, Aedan grasped the dagger in the knight's back and pulled it out, returning his blades to their sheaths. Striding over to Ser Gilmore, who was sitting and shaking his head, Aedan offered a hand and when the knight took it, pulled him to his feet.

Something bumping his other hand caught his attention, and he looked down at Fang, bearing the heavy knight's helm in his teeth. Taking the rounded bascinet in hand, he gave Fang a quizzical look. The hound only yipped and pointed. Ah, it was lyrium enhanced, some form of stamina boost. Turning to Ser Gilmore, who was about to enter the kitchens with his mother, Aedan passed it over, "Lyrium etched, should be of some use."

The knight nodded and, after running a clothed arm over the inside, pulled it on. The pair joined Fang and the teryna in the kitchens and as a group, moved to the larder door, which was blood stained and slightly ajar. Aedan drew his sword and shield, and nudged it open. Seeing the man on the floor behind it, he quickly threw it open and leapt forward to reach him.

"There…you all are."

Quickly, the Aedan's mother rushed to join him, taking his father's weight and letting him rest.

"Bryce! Maker's breath! What happened?"

"Howe's men found me. Nearly…ended me right here."

Aedan took in the injuries and the relative quiet. The men in the Great Hall must be holding, but it wouldn't last forever. They needed to move. The servant's passage would help them move behind Howe's lines, but it wouldn't take them all the way. "Come on, we have to get you out of the castle!"

"I won't survive standing, I think."

"Then we'll just carry you out!"

Aedan's father gave him half a grin and words came spilling out, "Only if you're willing to leave pieces of me behind, Pup…"

"Bryce this is no time for jokes! If Howe's men capture you…"

Hearing footsteps, Aedan turned and rose, his sword already out of its sheath. Off to his side, Ser Gilmore had his shield raised and sword at the ready. The man who entered, however was at least a friendly, blood-stained face. Duncan strode in, sheathing his sword as he did so, "I am afraid the teryna is correct." Natia walked behind him, a frown on her face and her crossbow held at the ready.

Aedan sheathed his sword and caught the older man's gaze with a frantic gesture, "Duncan! Do you have anything that can help him?"

"I am sorry, but no, he is beyond my care."

His father tensed himself, doing his best to ignore the pain he must have been in, and looked up at Duncan, who had come to kneel before the lord. "Duncan, you are under no obligation to me, but I beg you! See my family and Gilmore to safety."

"I will, your lordship, but I'm afraid I must ask for something in return."

"_Anything!_"

"What is happening here pales in comparison to the evil amassing in the south. I came here seeking a recruit, the darkspawn threat demands I leave with one."

His father drew in on himself, and unconsciously, the teryn's gaze turned upon Aedan. And suddenly Aedan knew what was coming next. "I…understand."

Shaking with rage, Aedan exploded, "Father, no! My duty is to our family. _To take_ _vengeance on Howe!_" And he couldn't do that if he became a warden. He would have to forswear the life he had before, all of his triumphs and all of his grievances.

His mother simply looked to the teryn, "Bryce, are you sure?"

His father nodded, and Aedan felt much of the rage simply vanish, replaced by an empty feeling. "Duncan is right, my love. The king will see justice done," and facing Aedan, he continued, "we all must do our duty. Our son will not die of Howe's treachery."

"Then go with Duncan, boys. I'll stay and buy you some time."

"Eleanor…"

Silently, Aedan moved over to hug his parents, "Hush, Bryce. I'll kill every bastard that comes through those doors, but I won't abandon you!" And as soon as she had finished, he brought his gauntleted fist down on the back of her head, knocking her unconscious.

"Aedan!"

Quickly catching her form, he gave a look to Ser Gilmore, and the knight sheathed his weapons and held out his arms. Passing her over to the knight, he turned to the teryn, "I'm sorry father, but her survival will help ensure the survival of the terynir."

Having remained stoically silent, Duncan now spoke up, "Then…I offer the two of you a place within the Grey Wardens."

"I acc-"

Aedan lashed out, his voice an icy whip, "_Gilmore! Be silent!_" Turning to Duncan, his countenance lost much of the sharpness, but none of the ice, "I…accept your offer, Duncan. You'll have your bloody recruit. Gilmore, I need you to escort the teryna to Denerim, the Highever estate. Tell her that I'll send Fergus north once I reach Ostagar."

His father had his head bowed, and his voice was barely a whisper, "Aedan, I'm sorry."

"As am I, father."

Here, however, Aedan's father caught his eyes and smiled, lips stained with blood, "And I am proud of you. Now, do me one last favor, quickly?"

"Of course." Withdrawing his dagger, he knelt in front of the teryn, and placing the blade at his throat, caught the man's gaze with his own. "I love you father." A quick jerk to the left, and his father's blood spilled out, coating Aedan's neck and chest. The body slumped onto his shoulder, and Aedan took hold and laid him on the ground. Removing the teryn's signet ring, he placed it in his pack and rose.

At the sound of a heavy clang, Duncan grabbed his arm and pulled, "Come! They have broken through the castle gates, and we must still make our way through Howe's lines!"

Their flight took several hours, a hectic balance of running, sneaking and fighting. Aedan both led the way and fought like a man possessed, cutting through any Howe soldiers that barred their path, sometimes literally. It was only when they were several miles out that the fighters stopped to catch their breath in a small glen. Off in the distance, Castle Highever could be seen burning away, a torch to be observed from miles around, and the group paused to watch.

Aedan was the first to speak, his voice lacking any inflection, "Gilmore, from here, you'll want to take the eastern game trail; that will lead you towards the road to Denerim."

Nodding with the teryna in his arms, the knight quickly left, soon becoming swallowed up in the night's darkness.

Duncan just grimly faced his recruits, "Come. We head south."

* * *

Author's Notes: Okay, so this will generally be how I describe both sex and violence. Overt and hopefully tasteful, but not gratuitous. Additionally, as to the violence: I am not a swordsman, let alone an experienced warrior, I'm simply going to describe what goes through my head and try and obey some common sense rules. i.e.: People probably won't be doing triple backflips while wearing heavy armor. Probably. If anyone can't stand the depictions and has some knowledge to impart, please, do so! I'd love to hear more about it and would relish the chance to improve the story.

So, yes, I gave Aedan a set of Veridium heavy chainmail. The characters in the story aren't realistically going to change their armor as often as it happens in the game, and he gets it from a _Teryn's_ treasury/armory. I figure it's possible that there'd be a suit of it in there. And yes, I made Highever Castle a little bigger than it was in the game, solely for drama.

Also, we begin to see what changes there are. Gilmore and Eleanor surviving, for example. And Hadrian provides a fairly decent example of how I intend to use OC's. Supporting roles, not primary ones. There is one I am tempted to consider, but that won't arise for some time, and I'm not sure if I really want to.


	3. Chapter 3: Kinloch Hold

Disclaimer: Dragon Age: Origins and anything associated with it are the property of Bioware and EA. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: Sorry this has taken me so long, I kept getting stuck on the scenes within, rewriting them. Regardless, please enjoy!

* * *

Of Dogs and Men

Chapter 3: Kinloch Hold

* * *

Natia didn't know what to think of their newest recruit. She understood that he'd just lost his family, and that must weigh heavily on him, but a single family betraying another single family? That was practically tame by Orzammar standards, wasn't it the same up here on the surface? Still, he hadn't been the jovial person she'd quickly bonded with back at the castle, and she couldn't blame him.

It was with that in mind that she kept her distance as the group travelled. It would be nice to have a friend up here on the surface, instead of just another companion. Friends didn't typically betray other friends; Leske had never betrayed her, though Stone only knew where the idiot dwarf was nowadays. But it had been half a week since the group had left the castle, and Natia still didn't know if she should bring it up or not. Humans were sodding confusing.

Apparently Duncan hadn't really known what to do either, and had simply continued to train her in the various survival skills native to the surface whenever they made camp. He'd invited Aedan to join them, and for the first few days he'd refused. Natia could see the look on his face; he would help out: gathering wood, tending the fire, keeping watch and more, but his eyes were always just blankly staring out in front of him, the tasks done reflexively. Once they'd reached the old Tevinter Highway and were camped out beneath it, however, he'd seen the snares that Duncan had been instructing her on and had ambled over. Silently, he snagged a spare length of the wire they had been working with and began twisting and shaping it.

"An odd snare Bailey taught me. Said she learned it in Antiva; it's good for small game, rabbits and the like."

And just like that, he seemed to rejoin her and Duncan. He still wouldn't smile, but he went about his tasks efficiently and aware. Over the next few days, as they travelled south, Natia tried to get him to speak more, occasionally sharing a tidbit about living in Orzammar. She was midway through telling him about an old peddler who'd offered to buy her teeth when Duncan suddenly stilled and held up his hand. She and Aedan fell silent; trying to catch whatever had stopped the older warden.

Quietly, the old man shook his head and spoke, "Darkspawn. Wardens can sense them; it is something you will learn in time. It's a small pack, about eight hundred meters to the east and moving closer. There are twelve…no, fourteen of them. Let's find a good spot to ambush them."

Natia was confused, and as the group found a mound of rubble to descend from the Highway, she caught Duncan's attention and spoke quietly, "I thought they were all gettin' together down in those Wilds of yours. What're they doin' over here?"

As the party moved quickly, seeking a point to surprise the foul creatures, Duncan replied, "The horde is indeed down in the Korcari Wilds, but there are isolated pockets of darkspawn sprouting up wherever they can find or make an entrance to the surface.

Eventually finding a small gulch that would funnel them in, Duncan began to speak, "Alright, they are approximately four hundred meters off and now heading directly for us. I'm going to be at the end of the gulch; the darkspawn will sense me and will rush for me directly, that will channel them in. Natia, I want you up on the overlooking rocks, midway between the point they'll enter and the point I'll be at. Aedan, hide up on the hill close to the side they're coming from. Now, I will draw them in. Aedan, once they are all in the gulch, you and Fang get behind them and attack, the hammer to my anvil. Natia, once he begins, I want you to target their leader and any mages they may have and kill them first. Oh and Aedan, instruct Fang to target their armor and limbs, but not to bite their flesh. The darkspawn taint is lethally toxic."

It took Natia a few moments to climb the stacked rocks. They were large slabs that lurched out of the steep hill behind her, forming a nearly-vertical wall to the bottom of the little ravine. Lying down on her chest, she removed and readied her crossbow, laying the extra bolts in their quiver down to her side. She looked down and out; watching as Duncan stood among forest's detritus at the base of the gulch, withdrawing his sword and dagger. Aedan she could see, had moved up the hill to her left, and was crouching to the side of a thick tree, Fang hunkered down beside him. The young man's head was turned downhill, keeping an eye on the gulch's entrance opposite Duncan, his own sword and dagger already in hand.

They didn't have to wait long, and the sounds of running feet trampling the underbrush soon reached Natia's ears. She looked down, checking once more on the others. Duncan had steeled himself, preparing to meet his enemies. Aedan seemed to be gritting his teeth and tensing up; Natia hoped he would wait for the opportune moment. She swung her gaze toward the woods to her left, and prepared to take aim, slowing her breathing.

There, the first of the darkspawn had entered her vision. It was shaped like a human, and she vaguely remembered her fellow casteless talking about the different kinds. This must be a hurlock, then. It began sprinting towards Duncan, screaming with its sword out, and was followed by three more of its kind. One of them, she noted, was wearing heavier armor and a horned helm. That must be the leader. She took aim and kept an eye on Aedan, who would spring the trap. Not yet…not yet… They weren't all out yet.

Fortunately he held, and the rest of the darkspawn came barreling out of the underbrush. Smaller than their larger cousins, they were her size and from what she had heard, the most common in the deep roads. Genlocks. Some of them, she noted, were carrying bows and daggers. Rogues, then, like her. As soon as the tenth genlock had passed him, Aedan leapt up, rushing down the hill with a bellow.

At his cry, Natia loosed a bolt down at the hurlock's leader, hitting it in the gap between its helmet and its chestplate. It didn't go down, however, but staggered and turned to face her, shouting out. Natia quickly cranked the loading mechanism and replaced the bolt. Taking aim, a second bolt flew out and pierced the hurlock in its right eye, knocking it to the ground and out of the fight. Reloading, she began to pick a new target when the action at the back of the pack caught her eye. The only time she'd seen Aedan in combat had been when they were all fleeing the castle, and the night had been too dark to take in all the details. Now though…

Fang wasn't even attacking, merely covering his unprotected back. The young man was dashing from genlock to genlock, slashing some, piercing others, kicking a few to the ground, and oh…ouch…apparently bisecting one very unfortunate rogue. So caught up in watching, she almost didn't notice one of the genlocks sneaking up on her. As it made the final lunge to stab her, she grappled and rolled with it, coming up on top. Ancestors, the bugger was ugly! Immediately drawing her dagger, she knocked its arm to the side and sliced down, opening its throat.

Standing up, she quickly retrieved her crossbow and looked below for a target, only to realize that between Duncan and Aedan, the remaining darkspawn had been cut to pieces. She sighed inaudibly. The battle hadn't gone as well as she'd hoped, but she'd been the one to kill the leader. That thought brought a wisp of a smile to her face. Climbing down, she rejoined the others. Duncan was waiting.

"Well fought, the both of you. Natia, killing the vanguard threw them in disarray, good work. Next time, keep your focus and be more aware of your surroundings. Aedan, I know you're angry now, and you certainly have cause to be, but I will not abide you losing your head to some inane blood rage. Control yourself. Now come, the both of you. We must burn the corpses before we leave to spare the land from the taint, and we still have a ways to travel."

Another two days passed before Duncan directed them to get off the Highway and begin heading west. Puzzled, but trusting the old warden's knowledge of the land, Natia and Aedan quickly followed him. After a bit of travel, they camped for the night off in a small copse of trees. There, Duncan finally told him their next destination: The Circle of Magi's tower, Kinloch Hold. He hoped to gather more mages for both the wardens and the King's army down south.

It was nearly noon the next day before they could see Kinloch Hold's spire in the distance, at once imposing and mysterious. Once the group had reached the shores of Lake Calenhad, their view was unobstructed, and both the recruits were gazing in admiration. Natia had no idea surface dwellings could be built as such, and Aedan hadn't seen the tower in years, and had never been inside. What became quickly apparent to his eyes hadn't occurred to the young man when he was but a boy travelling with his father and the teryn's men.

Aedan, at the sight of the first major stepping stone past Castle Highever, began to show a glimmer of his jovial self, "It really is a giant phallic symbol, isn't it? Kind of like Ferelden has a hard-on." Natia had to stifle her laughter, and became wholly unable to get the image out of her mind.

"_Aedan!_" Duncan shook his head, but both recruits could hear him chuckling under his breath, "Now, the both of you, when we get inside I will be doing the talking. I want the two of you to keep your eyes out for potential recruits. The First Enchanter and Knight Commander will likely offer one as a way to appease us, but if possible, I'd like to leave with three or four for the wardens, and as many as we can get to join the army."

Natia was incredulous, especially after the pair of fiascos her and Aedan's recruitment had become, "And jus' what should we be lookin' for? Stone! I've never even seen a mage."

Duncan smiled at the two, "Perhaps I should have spoken differently, I would like you to watch, yes, but mostly I want you to be listening. The mages here have for the most part lived their entire lives in this tower. And living in such close quarters for so long will always create three things: boredom, contempt, and gossip. It is the last I wish you to be listening to, as fickle as it can be."

Aedan was similarly incredulous, "So, what? Are the mages always comparing their staff sizes or something?"

"Hardly. But there will be rumors of who is advancing quickly, who is not, whether someone is dangerous or just plain different. I believe you get the idea."

Aedan stood pensively for a moment, his thoughts turned inwards. "…That's why you sent Natia with me, back at Highever, isn't it Commander?"

Natia's eyes opened widely, and she waved her hands, "Hey, don't look a' me! It was his idea!"

Oh, boy, he was going to be pissed.

Duncan, however, merely gave Aedan a serious nod, "Indeed. Deceitful as it was, wardens do _whatever_ we must to stop the Blight. That is our _only_ duty, however tasteful it may or may not be."

"I don't like it, but it makes sense, I suppose."

"A common attitude amongst the wardens. Keep it; it will serve you well."

The foursome strode down the hill towards the dock laying under the broken causeway. Duncan seemed to know the ferryman, but Natia was looking forlornly at the ruined bridge, and despairingly at the little boat that sat under it. Quietly, she tugged on Aedan's gauntlet.

"So…you've done this 'afore, aye? Goin' in one of those wooden contraptions?"

The young man gave her a tired smile, the first real one she'd seen since the betrayal. "Yes, Natia. They're called boats, and they come in all shapes and sizes. Surfacers use them to move across the water."

She pulled her arm back and punched his lightly, "I know that! I know that it's a boat, I mean. It's jus'…_it's so little!_ You're sure it's safe?"

"Just sit in the middle, you won't fall out there."

"S'pose so. We dwarves ain't exactly known fer our brilliant swimmin' skills."

Her fears about the large expanse of water eventually proved groundless, but just to be sure, she crawled to the exact middle of the boat and sat down, wrapping her arms around her legs. Aedan had laughed a bit at the sight of her, but she'd be the one laughing when he fell overboard. Fang calmly padded over and sat down beside her, resting his head on her feet.

Soon enough for the two men, but not soon enough for Natia, the ride was over, and the group left the boat and paused to look up the tower, noting the distinct lack of windows and massive stone buttresses keeping it upright. As Duncan strode forward towards a pair of doors at the base, Natia and Aedan quickly jogged to catch up.

The inside wasn't quite as awe-inspiring as the rest, but it was still an impressive display. Templars stood around, guarding the exit, and the three could see a number of large paintings hidden behind the numerous small columns. The ceiling was vaulted high overhead, and gave the impression of open space despite the close confines. Off to their left, in one of the alcoves, a bored-looking girl stood amongst various packs, clothing, and equipment. Aedan, spotting this quartermaster, for that must surely be what she was, turned to Duncan, "Commander, with your permission, I'm going to see if I can _find_ some travelling equipment."

Natia watched as the older warden nodded to the young man, and Aedan and Fang split off from her and Duncan, the two of them striding over to the suddenly perky girl manning the supplies. She followed Duncan, however, when he moved over to one of the templars guarding the doors inward and asked to be taken the First Enchanter, a man named Irving. Nodding, the guard directed a much younger templar without a helmet to lead them up.

The young templar was a man named Cullen, and as polite as he was, Natia couldn't help but want to shut him up. The kid talked _incessantly_. About the mages, the Grey Wardens, asking for news of the war, everything! She supposed that this had been what Duncan spoke of, but Stone! She was _this _close to pulling her crossbow off her back and threatening to bolt his mouth closed when they reached the First Enchanter's office.

Cullen departed, and Natia looked in the doorway to see a pair of older men. The elder was in a long, green robe, and had a whole, fuzzy beard. The other was wearing a more ornate version of the armor she'd seen all the templars wearing. The two were conversing casually, clearly passing the time until the wardens arrived. Interesting, it looked like news really did travel fast here. Natia, as instructed, remained silent and watched as Duncan took the lead, "Irving, Greagoir, it's good to see the both of you again."

The robed one spoke as Duncan shook his hand before the commander turned to the armored man and repeated the gesture, "Ah, Duncan. I imagine asking how well you are doing would be a fruitless endeavor, hmm?"

"My apologies, Irving, but yes. If there's one thing this Blight has done, it's robbed my sleep from me."

"And who is this, who stands beside you so? A Warden Recruit perhaps?"

"Indeed. Irving, Greagoir, I present to you to Natia Brosca, of Orzammar. My second recruit is down at the quartermaster's getting some much needed travelling equipment; Aedan Cousland, of Highever."

The armored man, Greagoir finally spoke up, his face and tone incredulous, "You've recruited Bryce's youngest? I cannot imagine him agreeing…"

Duncan frowned and his countenance darkened, "Then the news has not yet reached you. Arl Howe has shown himself a traitor, waiting until the teryn's men departed for the Wilds before attacking in the dead of night. The teryn is dead and the teryna is, Maker willing, safely on her way to Denerim. Fergus leads Highever's host to Ostagar, and I do not know if he has received the news. Aedan has, obviously, joined the wardens."

The two men were openly shocked, but they mastered themselves and the armored man, Greagoir, continued in short order, "Grave news indeed. I will offer prayers for those lost and ask our revered mother to do the same. But are you positive this is a Blight, Duncan? What leads you to believe it so?"

"I'm sorry, Greagoir, but that is a matter for the Grey Wardens to know. Please, simply listen when I tell you that all wardens across Thedas are sure this is a true Blight."

The old mage had been silent, but here he spoke up, "And I take it that is what has brought you to our lovely tower here?"

"Indeed, I am seeking further recruits for the wardens, and I ask that any other mages you can spare be sent south to reinforce the army at Ostagar."

The two old men erupted into a bout of noise, each clamoring to speak. Suddenly, Natia caught movement in the corner of her eye and turned her head towards the doorway, where an elven mage walked into the room before pausing at the argument and holding back. She had incredibly white hair, done up behind her with a pair of long bangs, even though she was clearly young. Icy blue eyes caught Natia's gaze, and beside them, a thin scar that ran up across her lips and doubled back to cross her right eye and bisect the eyebrow above it. She was wearing the basic robes Natia had seen on most of the mages she'd passed. The First Enchanter and the Templar-Commander, caught up in their _discussion_, however, took no heed of her.

"Many have already gone to Ostagar. Wynne, Uldred, and most of the senior mages have already left. We have committed _enough_ of our own to this war effort!"

"Your own? Since when have you felt such kinship with the mages, Greagoir? Or are you simply afraid to let the mages out of Chantry supervision, where they can actually _use_ their maker-given powers?"

"How dare you suggest-"

Duncan quickly stepped to the fore, gesturing to the new arrival both men had overlooked, "Gentlemen please, Irving, someone is here to see you."

The elven girl finally spoke up, "You sent for me, first enchanter?"

"Ah, if it isn't our new sister in the circle." The old mage looked away from Duncan, facing the young mage fully and directing an inquisitive gaze upon her. The young mage shrugged it off, however, and Irving continued, "Ah, my apologies Greagoir, Duncan, this will take but a moment. Neria, may I present to you Duncan of the Grey Wardens, and one of his recruits. Wardens, Neria Surana, our most recently harrowed mage. Congratulations, dear girl."

"Pleased to meet you, wardens."

The Templar-Commander had also turned to face her, and bore the ghost of a smile on his face, "Well Irving, you're obviously busy. We will discuss this later. And Neria, well done." Briefly nodding to the rest of the room's occupants, he turned and strode out of the office.

Irving picked up, "You've heard about the war brewing to the south, I expect? Duncan is recruiting mages to join the King's army at Ostagar."

"Who are we fighting?"

The old warden's countenance darkened, "The darkspawn threat grows in the south. We need all the help we can get."

Neria's face was one of mixed confusion and horror, "What do you mean? I thought the Grey Wardens defeated the darkspawn?"

Duncan's arms crossed, and he shifted from one foot to the other. His voice took on the same tone he used when he was teaching her about life on the surface, "Not permanently. And the power you mages wield is an asset to any army. Your spells are very effective against large packs of mindless darkspawn. I fear if we don't drive them back now, we may see the true horror of a Blight."

The first enchanter spread his arms wide, cutting Duncan off, "Duncan, you worry the poor girl with talk of Blights and darkspawn. This is a happy day for her."

Duncan turned to Irving, shrugging his shoulders and cocking an eyebrow, "We live in troubled times, my friend."

"We should seize moments of levity, _especially_ in troubled times." Turning to Neria, "The Harrowing is behind you. Your phylactery was sent to Denerim. You are officially a mage within the circle of magi.

At this, the passive expression on the elf's face submerged to be replaced with disgust and resentment, "My leash, you mean."

"Now, now. Child, it's not that bad."

Duncan has turned an inquisitive gaze upon the old mage, "I'm sorry, but what is this phylactery?"

Irving gave a wary glance at the young elf before explaining, "Blood is taken from every mage as they first come to the tower and is preserved in special vials."

Duncan recoiled, "The Chantry uses _blood magic_ to track down apostates?"

Irving raised his hands, placating, "No, no, the blood is not a component in any spell. The templars can sense mages, it's an ability they train to use. By focusing this ability on a phylactery, the templars can sense where that specific mage is."

"I assume this blood is not always taken willingly when mages arrive."

Irving shrugged, his shoulders weary but unbroken, "We have little choice. The gift of magic is looked upon with suspicion and fear. We must prove that we are strong enough to use that power responsibly."

"I will require, Irving, that anyone I recruit or conscript have their phylactery destroyed. I cannot have wardens subject to the control of the Chantry."

Natia could see the calculating gleam appear in the old mage's eyes even from where she stood, "I will discuss it with Greagoir once the three of us can speak again; it is not a matter that new mages should be concerning themselves with." Striding over to his desk for moment, the old mage picked up a bundle and approached Neria, offering them to her, "Here, I present you with your robes, your staff, and a ring bearing the Circle's insignia. Wear them proudly, for you have earned them."

"Thank you sir."

"It goes without saying that you shall not discuss the Harrowing with those who have not undergone the rite. Now then, take your time to rest, or study in the library. The day is yours."

The passive expression disappeared again, but this time it was replaced by a soft smirk, "Don't suppose I can take a jaunt outside the tower, huh?"

Irving frowned, but the laughter that accompanied his tone suggested it was an old argument, "Not a chance."

With that, Duncan turned to Natia and spoke, "As Irving and I have matters to discuss, Natia, you're free to leave us old men to our talking."

Irving nodded, agreeing, "Of course. Duncan, I've seen to it that the guest quarters on this floor be prepared for you and your recruits. Neria, would you be so kind as to escort Miss Brosca there?"

"Of course, first enchanter."

"The guest quarters are one the eastern side, close to the library. Now, if you'll both excuse us, Duncan and I have matters to discuss with Greagoir."

* * *

With that, Natia followed Neria out into the hallway. The elven mage seemed put off, but just smiled and led the way. Still, she didn't have to wait long before the young mage spoke up, "Natia, right? So, have you heard anything more about the army down south? We're all dying for news cooped up in here."

"Not much, I'm a new recruit, so I guess'll see once I get there."

"Oh…"

Well, that ended quickly. Okay, how to keep her talking? "The firs' enchanter said you're harrowed? What's that mean?"

Neria tensed for a moment, but seemed to think better of it and relaxed, beginning to speak, "Yes, it's a test. All the apprentices have to pass it to become a full mage; you know, prove we can resist the temptation of forbidden magics. The only other options are death or worse, tranquility."

"What's tranquility, 'nd why's it worse 'n death?"

Here, her face once again lost that passive façade and Natia could see the traces of anger and frustration across it, "The rite of tranquility cuts you off from the fade- so no more magic, but also no more dreams and no more emotions. All those bloody Chantry-lovers want nothing to do with magic, so a lot of them end up volunteering for it. Bloody idiots."

"I take it ye know some of 'em what want to do this?"

"Not personally, but you can always hear them praying in the chantry. All magic is evil, I hate my life, Maker save us, and so on and so forth."

"I'm guessing that's not exactly a prime location to hang around. So what do you mages do around here?"

"Mostly read and study. The library's extensive, so it's where most of us pass our days. If I may, would you tell me about the Grey Wardens?"

"S'not much to tell, really, I'm only a recruit. But it seems a lot like the Legion of the Dead back'n Orzammar, cast away everything an' swear to kill the darkspawn."

All of a sudden, another young mage ran up, somewhat out of breath. Natia and Neria both paused and waited for the young man to stop panting. Collecting himself, he addressed Neria, "I'm…glad I caught up to you! Are you done…talking with Irving?"

"Going through another personal crisis, are we Jowan? Natia, I'd be delighted to speak later, but it seems I have to take care of this one. The guest quarters are just ahead on your left."

"Of course." Walking a few paces around the bend, Natia quickly drew to the side and pressed her ear near the wall, hoping to catch the rest of the conversation.

"Very funny. I need to talk to you. You remember what we discussed this morning?"

"Why are you whispering? It looks very suspicious."

"Shhh! I just want to make sure we aren't overheard. We should go somewhere else. I don't feel safe here."

"You're starting to worry me, Jowan."

"I've been…troubled. I'll explain. Come with me, please."

Well, that sounded juicy. Natia wanted to head down and see what Aedan had gotten up to, but figured following the pair of mages could be equally rewarding. Besides, Aedan wasn't going anywhere, she's check in on him once she was done.

* * *

With a clear task at hand, Aedan was finally able to focus. The past week had been filled with long days and longer nights. With a straightforward task drawing his attention, he could put everything out of his mind for the moment. The quartermaster had been quite helpful, and Aedan had managed to haggle a good price for one of the templars' travelling packs. It contained all the gear he would need travel with: tent, sleeping roll, cooking and basic hunting and medical supplies. The pack itself could be given to Natia, who had been hauling a rucksack around. Another bit of bartering netted him a pair of tunics and breeches.

In between acquiring supplies, he'd been asking about recent news around the tower. There hadn't been many Templars journeying out, so the young quartermaster had been somewhat bored recently. However, the juicy bits of gossip were about a newly harrowed mage and the Libertarians, whoever they were. Apparently with little news of the darkspawn incursion, many of the mages were becoming more vocal in their beliefs as to the role of the Circle. Some wanted to go fight, others to isolate themselves. Still others would follow the Chantry, some wanted to overthrow it. For the young man, the political intrigue behind the scenes was like a bucket of cold water, painfully refreshing. It unwittingly brought his thoughts back to Highever, and he had to shake his head to clear it. At his side, Fang whimpered softly and pushed his head into Aedan's hand.

In between chatting, Aedan snagged a number of dried and wrapped rations. Mostly jerky and hardtack, along with a couple tins of preserves. Hunting and foraging would generally suffice, but having reserves was just plain common sense. He was in the midst of paying for these last bits when he heard the footsteps of his dwarven companion. Finishing up and putting the supplies away in his pack, he turned and saw Natia looking at the varying enchanted bolts stacked up in cases. The curvy dwarf was leaning over them, examining, even as her right hand idly played with a knife, flipping it about.

Coughing lightly, Aedan grabbed her attention and tossed her the basic travelling pack with the Templar's symbol sewn into it. She looked up curiously and he spoke, "Bag of holding. The templars use them as travelling packs when they're out of the tower. It had all the gear I needed, but I don't need the pack itself. Figured you might."

The dwarf strung it about her waist, as her rucksack was not in sight, "Thanks. Oughtta be careful, though. Gift like this…Ye migh' give a girl ideas, ye know? An' I ain't no hunter."

"You're welcome, but what does hunting have to do with it?" Some bit of dwarven culture, perhaps?

"Ye know, a noble hunter. Girl looki-" _Bang!_

Aedan, Natia, and Fang's head all swiveled immediately to the tower doors. They'd been thrown open forcefully, and several templars were leading a bound mage into the tower proper. The mage was a scruffy blonde man in robes. And as he crossed the threshold, the mage paused and seemed to sigh to himself. The templars didn't take kindly to that, and the one behind him shoved him forward with one gauntleted fist.

"Get going Anders, you know what to do."

"Oh come on, fellows? Can't a guy just take a stroll out and about? I'd'a been back before tea time, honest!"

"Oh really. And I suppose the _last_ five times were just a stroll across the lake, eh?"

"Of course! I'm a nature lover. Maker, but I love the smell of oak in the morning! Gets me all tingly, you know, on the inside."

Seeing Anders about to be led away, Aedan quickly turned to Natia and spoke in a rushed whisper, "What do you think?"

"About what? Him?"

"Yeah. Look, you've seen how many templars are guarding this place. If he's really managed to escape six times, maybe Duncan would be interested. Go find him, quickly, and tell him to ask the First Enchanter about a mage named Anders. Mention the number of times he's escaped, I'll stall them here."

"Sure." The curvy dwarf sped off at a brisk walk, fortunately attracting little notice. Once she was out of the room, Aedan strolled over to the foursome, planting a wide grin on his face and breaking out the charm.

"Salutations, mage hunting templar knight sers!"

"And who are you?"

"Just a Grey Warden inserting my incredibly handsome nose where it doesn't belong. So who is he? An apostate?"

The templar interposed himself between Aedan and the mage, raising one hand to bar the way, "His name's Anders, warden, and he's likely a blood mage. I'd advise you to stand back. The Knight Commander and First Enchanter will be able to tell for sure."

"Really! He doesn't look very much like a blood mage. Not that I've ever seen one, mind you, but I imagine they'd kind of stand out."

"It's not the ki-"

His grin firmly entrenched, Aedan ignored the Templar and called out, "Ho there, Anders! Are you a blood mage?"

"Of course not!"

Aedan nodded sagely, "Well if you were, you certainly wouldn't admit it, but I bet its left its evil mark on you, so come on, what've you got? Webbed feet, perchance? An extra finger maybe? Hey, how about a second cock! That'd come in handy I reckon."

Anders had begun warming up, but he recoiled at the last idea, "What! No! Nothing of the sort! I'm a perfectly normal not-evil mage!"

"There must be something! Come on, out with it!"

Releasing a very put-upon sigh, the mage held his manacled hands up, "Alright. I confess! All of my incredibly dark and malevolent powers are contained in my shiny new earring."

Aedan just balled one fist and bounced it off the palm of his other in triumph, "Well now, if that's not a sign of supremely evil demonic possession, I don't know what is!"

The Templar just sighed, clearly exasperated, "And clearly you don't, _warden_. The signs of a blood mage are never overt."

"Aha! So it's all on the inside is it? Well I heard you earlier, blood mage! Getting all tingly for the trees. Does the sight of hardwood terrify you so that you must delve into forbidden magics?

"That will be enough, Aedan."

Oh good, Duncan was here! "On an unrelated note, my compliments! That is indeed a very shiny earring."

"Aedan!"

Oh, right, Duncan was here. Time to cut the act, then. "Sorry, Commander."

"Irving, is this Anders a blood mage?"

The old mage raised his hand, pausing, and Anders froze and began to glow in a series of blues, greens, purples, and whites. Soon, Irving lowered his hand and opened his eyes, and Anders ceased glowing, "No, I can sense no taint of blood magic about him, and Anders has never shown an inclination toward the forbidden arts; just an utter disregard for life in the tower. Why?"

"If he is skilled, perhaps I may be able to make use of him."

Irving crossed his arms, giving the impression of a hen ruffling its feathers, "He's harrowed, and the last I evaluated him, he showed fair potential in the Primal and Creation Schools. Anders! I assume you've continued your studies on your own? Well?"

The rogue mage was seemingly resigned, and his voice came out quietly, "You're correct, first enchanter. I've been progressing with the Creation and Primal Schools."

"So, Irving, what is to become of him?"

"As he isn't and has never shown himself to be a blood mage, he will once more be incarcerated for a time. Hopefully, the lesson will stick."

"And why not simply make him tranquil?"

The first enchanter's voice was cold and harsh, "The rite of tranquility is _only_ for volunteers and those who delve into the forbidden arts.

"And would you be willing to relinquish him to the wardens instead?"

Irving didn't react at all, clearly he'd been expecting it and he simply paused, considering, "Hmm…"

Their conversation would have to be put on hold, however, as the Knight Commander entered the fray. As the two heads of the Circle began to argue, Duncan motioned for Aedan and Natia to join him, and the pair walked over. "This may take a while. Why don't the both of you head up to our quarters. If all goes well, I will rejoin you with Anders in a short time."

* * *

Well, that had been particularly interesting. Admittedly, Neria was actually having almost as much trouble believing that Jowan had actually found someone as she had believing in their plan to escape. And of course, by listening she'd gotten involved. Damnation.

Heading back along the familiar hallways, Neria once more paused before entering the First Enchanter's office. Irving was at his desk, going over something or other, and at her arrival, looked up and beckoned her in absently, "Ah, Neria. Welcome, I trust you saw Miss Brosca to their quarters? What do you think of our guests?"

"Yes. But, if I may, why did you ask me to do that?"

The old mage shifted a bit, his tone apologetic, "I wanted you to meet Duncan, actually. He's a most honorable man."

"Natia and I…we spoke a little. I'd like to hear more."

"I'm glad you did. She must have told you about the grey wardens; we can learn much from them. Alright, out with it child. Something has you quite worried."

Neria paused and hesitantly wrung her fingers for a moment before speaking in a hushed voice, "Jowan says that he's going to be made tranquil…"

The old mage looked up from the books cluttering his desk and swung a pair of gimlet eyes in her direction, "And just how does he know this? I suppose that initiate he dallies about with told him thus." Neria's shocked look must have been apparent for he continued, "You think I didn't know? I did not become first enchanter by keeping my eyes and ears shut."

Well, if there was no point in hiding it, "Yes, Lily was the one to tell him."

Irving sighed, "Lily should know better than to tell Jowan, and the templars and priests should have been more discreet around her. But assigning blame at this point is meaningless. Jowan knows, and nothing can be done about that."

"That's not what he thinks. Jowan plans to escape the circle to avoid being made tranquil!"

Irving's countenance shifted, his eyes taking on a calculating gleam, "Oh, interesting…what more do you know?"

"I only know that he plans on destroying his phylactery"

Irving put one hand to his jaw, scratching his beard, "And I suppose his lady friend is involved. Yes, she must be helping him. She _would_ know more about the repository than he would. Do you know anything else?"

"No, Lily wanted my oath of assistance before she would tell me more."

"I suspected Lily might tell him of the impending rite if she found out. But I never would have expected they would have the gall to break into the repository."

"So…what will become of Jowan?"

"Reporting him to Greagoir and the templars will accomplish nothing beyond what is already planned. If the Circle must punish one of its own, I will see the Chantry done the same courtesy. Lily will not walk free while my apprentice suffers."

But that didn't solve the original problem at all! Neria stepped forward, her arms spread and asked, "But why is he going to be made tranquil in the first place! Why not simply tell them she was involved and turn him from this path?"

Irving had stood as well, and now he rested both hand on the back of his chair, using it to support himself. Quietly, he shook his head and caught Neria's eyes, "If we mention her involvement the Chantry will say that she was framed. No she must be caught in the act."

Neria's arms fell to her sides, defeated, "I…I suppose you are right, the Chantry would do the same to us."

"If you want to survive you must learn the rules and realize that sometimes sacrifices are necessary. Jowan _will_ become tranquil, but Lily must _also_ face the consequences of her actions. How did you learn of their plan? Do they trust you?"

"Jowan told me their intentions, but I don't know the plan."

"Then do this, learn the plan and offer to help carry it out. With solid proof of their crime, we can act."

Well then, there was nothing for it. She'd betrayed her friend just to hear that not only would he be punished, but so would the girl he loved. Damnation. "Of course, first enchanter. I will do as you ask."

"Go convince them you will risk all for their cause. I will be outside the repository with a contingent of templars. Let them see well the mischief one of their own has led my student into. Perform well, and your dedication will be rewarded."

* * *

Author's Notes: Sorry for the incredible wait, this has been in-progress for quite some time before college and then my other story stole my attention. Nevertheless, it's far from abandoned, just coming slower than the rest, as I'm mentally on a massive HP/ME kick.


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